


Tattooed

by TServo



Series: Tattooed [2]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Some naughty bits, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-18 07:07:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 40,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9373577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TServo/pseuds/TServo
Summary: Park Chanyeol gets exactly what he needs, now he has to figure out how to keep it...or get it back.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rare pair...like a mythical creature in the deep, dark wilds of Seoul. 
> 
> It's angsty, have no doubt.
> 
> A million thanks to guster02, crookedlydeepcolor, KpopontheDL, and CherryCordial for making this story readable whilst I sat back and ate a bag of potato chips.

Chanyeol stretched back onto the reclining, cushioned seat in the surgically clean room. It was well lit, walls adorned with beautifully photographed representations of the artist’s work. The artist herself, back to him, was preparing the tools of her trade. She was snapping on black nitrile gloves, laying out inks and salves, testing her weapon. A handful of strangers were scattered around the room; two standing in the corner, talking/arguing quietly, one draped on the bench lining the back wall, head on the lap of another, flipping through a book of ideas, and another leaning over a counter staring at jewelry he, himself, would never wear. The room was loud with driving music. Not his music, never his music, not here.

Maybe his music, if he was allowed to make his music.

He wasn’t nervous exactly. He _might_ be nervous. It had been so long since he had felt that way he wasn’t sure he would recognize it. Since he was a child, only twelve, he had been pushed, prodded, molded, and crafted into being a performer, an idol. He hadn’t been allowed the opportunity to express his own feelings in so many years that he had just kind of pushed them down into as tiny a space as he could manage. There would be time to examine them later, when he was older, when he was no longer valuable. He had been on display, judged and loved, from even before he had debuted at seventeen. There were stages, festivals, variety shows, web dramas, world tours. Nervous wasn’t something he thought he could do anymore. But it _was_ possible that this feeling, in his belly, was what nervous should feel like.

The artist set her tools aside and swiveled her wheeled stool to face him. She reached her long, slender arms up into the air, lacing her fingers together, and stretched, preparing herself for the next few hours of work. The thin straps of her tank top revealed beautifully layered swirls of color — birds, flowers, and branches climbing from her neck down her arms and under the thin fabric of her shirt. Her long, black hair was pulled securely into a knot at the top of her head, and her heavily made up face glinted with a piercing in her nose, her lip, her tongue. Her eyes sparked with intelligence, creativity, and warmth. She was more alive than most of the people that surrounded him 24 hours of every day.

“Are you ready?”

He was ready. He was ready in theory. Chanyeol unbuttoned his tight, black jeans and slid them down, low on his hips. The flat plains of his lower abdomen now exposed to the air conditioned room. He was used to being exposed like this, it was part of his job, to show off his perfectly muscled and groomed body as he danced and sang alongside the other, perfectly muscled and groomed, members of his group. He had been grabbed, groped, and touched by stylists, PDs, other celebrities, fans. But this, this felt so much more intimate. This felt just a little bit like being with Ji Seok _,_ which he knew was the reason he was doing this, to be closer to him. His heart hurt.

“I’m ready.”

Her warm, gloved hands smoothed over the area between his hip bones, seeming to get a feel for curve of his stomach, the texture of his skin. She looked up directly into his eyes, the potential for artistic connection sparking between them. He knew what this was. This was inspiration. This was art in the making. They had talked through his ideas on multiple occasions. He had brought her Ji Seok’s drawing, the not-so-obvious claw marks. She had transferred the art onto the tracing paper, ensuring the design would be exactly as Ji Seok had drawn it. She, it would seem, was also ready.

The first touch of the needle to his skin was a spark. A shot. A painful reminder of the moment he had told Ji Seok to leave. To go. To get away from him. Ji Seok was a distraction. He was a risk. He was in the way. Ji Seok was hurting him.

Ji Seok was really the one at risk. He wasn’t safe. Chanyeol’s life would have hurt Ji Seok even more if he hadn’t hurt him first.

The pain intensified as the artist slowly, deliberately moved the gun over his skin. She paused, mopped up excess ink with a towel, started again. Air hissed between his teeth as he sank deeper into the moment. Ji Seok had felt this pain too. He had laughed at him as Chanyeol had outlined the lines, the letters, the lion, on Ji Seok’s skin with his fingertips. Ji Seok had shivered, gotten goosebumps, as he had traced the patterns and designs on his body with his lips. Ji Seok had moaned, deep in his throat, as Chanyeol had tasted his skin where the black ink turned his body into art.

He rolled his head to the side, looking away from the artist at work. He wiped the tear from his cheek. He concentrated on the easier pain of the tattoo.

The company, his manager, the other members were only now starting to forgive him for his betrayal. For falling in love with a real person. With less than the fandom. With something other than being an idol. He had been honest with them. He had trusted them to understand. He had needed them to protect this piece of him. To protect Ji Seok. They hadn’t.

He was again breaking their trust. He had left the dorm. He had, like the teenager he had never gotten the chance to be, snuck out in the cover of night. He had drunk far too much soju. He had eaten nothing. He had made his way to this place. Again. He was ready this time. The artist had seen that he was ready. And now he was marked. Ruined. They would be hard pressed to let him take his shirt off for most stages. They would layer makeup on his body to cover this part of him. They would change the teasing choreo, the shirt raises, the exposed body waves. They would be pissed.

He didn’t care.

Ji Seok had wanted him to be happy. _He_ had wanted him to smile. _He_ had wanted him to be himself, to eat his meals, to relax, to breathe, to make his music. _He_ had wanted so much and so little. Chanyeol hadn’t been able to give _him_ anything.

He had fucked up. He had told Ji Seok to leave. He had let _him_ go. So this, this was for _him._ His heart hurt. It really fucking hurt.


	2. Happy Birthday, Zico!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chanyeol gets a night out on the town - A pre-planned, well styled, with a drink limit, night on the town

Chanyeol had referenced Zico as someone he looked up to in an interview on a recent radio appearance. The invitation to his birthday party was delivered from Seven Seasons, the man’s management company, to SM within twelve hours of the program airing, the photo op was just too much for any PR person to pass up. Chanyeol, along with three of his fellow members, would be attending the event.

They go to so many goddamned events. The stylists dress them up like dolls based on whatever concept a room full of executives and managers had chosen for whichever song they had selected for them, and then the members are sent out to these things. They are supposed to stick together, cling to each other’s arms, be best friends playfully on the town for exactly 2.5 hours (give or take) and then leave so they can hopefully get an hour or two of sleep before they have to be up and preparing for the next item on their schedule. At least this one was being held at a well known club. Chanyeol rarely had the opportunity to go to clubs, and he was hoping that he could slip away for a bit and relax with some measure of anonymity.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like spending time with the other members. He really did. They had grown up together, were always together. They knew each other’s habits and quirks so well that there were rarely even opportunities to argue anymore. It was like they floated around each other, accommodating eccentricities without thought or intention. Being with the other members was familiar and comforting. And boring.

Chanyeol was particularly close with Do Kyung Soo, but the young man was beginning to focus more of his attention on acting and had developed a close relationship with some hyungs that had seemed to adopt him after he had proven himself skilled in dramas and movies. Chanyeol had done some acting as well, but it had been met with a more “ah, isn’t he cute” reaction while his best friend was garnering acclaim as an up-and-coming talent. Chanyeol was so proud of his friend, he knew that Kyung Soo worked incredibly hard for all that he had achieved, but it still stung. Acting was allowing Kyung Soo some measure of freedom to choose projects that interested him, helped him to grow professionally, and pushed the boundaries of what was acceptable for an idol.

Chanyeol wanted freedom. He ached to be able to put his own music into the world. Music he had written, played, and produced on his own. Music that spoke about who he was as an artist and helped him grow as a person. He spent his precious few hours of downtime, sacrificed what little sleep he was afforded, slouched over notebooks, connected to his laptop through headphones, stealing time on equipment at the company, writing the unending stream of music that seemed to bubble up out of him.

But tonight, tonight he was going to a party, a birthday party for a man he had met in passing only a handful of times at award shows and variety programs. He was going to his birthday party because a PR person at one company had communicated with a PR person at another company, and they had decided that it would be good for everyone involved if he and the birthday boy were seen mugging for the camera.

The stylist had left an outfit for each of them in the dorm, and someone had been by, one hour before they were set to leave, to do their hair and makeup. Chanyeol had gotten off lucky, he was in ripped skinny jeans that hugged his long legs tightly with a white, button-up dress shirt and jacket. Poor Xiumin, too sweet to say no, had nearly cried as he put on an overlarge, white shirt with bell sleeves and a ruffled collar paired with plaid dress pants.

Their nanny van joined the queue of similar vehicles, expensive sports cars, and a limousine creeping toward the entrance of the club. There was a short, red carpet snaking through the crowd blocking the door, guests were posing for photos taken by fans, paparazzi, entertainment reporters, and company staff. Chanyeol, Xiumin, Baekhyun, and Sehun quickly exited the van when it finally reached the red carpet. They made their way along the claustrophobic path, smiling and joking with each other, pointing and waving at various faces in the crowd that they recognized from a million other appearances.

Chanyeol had learned that the actual party was off limits to the press. There would be, or should be, no cameras inside the premises so Zico and his friends could celebrate without fear of scandal. When they entered the building, they were immediately shuffled down a dark, narrow hallway and up black, carpeted steps into a wide, open room. The room was huge, ceilings two stories high with multiple bars strategically placed around the room and an open dance floor taking up the entire middle of the space. Balconies, clearly reserved for VIPs during normal business hours, looped around the second floor, overlooking the dance floor.

They had timed their arrival so they wouldn’t be there too early, looking desperate for attention, or too late to miss Zico’s big entrance. They had arrived at the perfect time. The club was packed. There were other celebrities, industry people, chaebol heirs, and other hangers-on filling the room. No one appeared to be too drunk, yet it was clear that people were already starting to have a good time. They had been instructed by their manager that they could each have two drinks. Two. No more. As idols, they could not afford to be seen drunk in public, even if it was a closed party.

As they made their way through the crowd, Baekhyun slid his arm around Chanyeol’s elbow and leaned in close to his ear.

“Here’s the deal.” The man snuggled into Chanyeol’s side. “I _need_ this, so you go left, I go right, and we meet up in one hour and 45 minutes at this very spot. Xiumin can take care of the kid, and we can have some fun.”

Chanyeol lowered his eyes to get a better look at his colleague and friend. “Really? You mean that?” He had had no idea that Baekhyun had been feeling this way, that he felt the need for some freedom just as keenly as Chanyeol did. The young man was always so positive and happy, chipper. He was made for this life — smiley, polite, up for any game or stupid scenario the PD of any variety show might have created for them. He was good-looking, sexy even, but with enough boyish charm that he seemed somewhat harmless. The perfect idol. Sometimes even Chanyeol forgot that the facade they all wore didn’t always reflect who they were inside. He was so caught up in how conflicted he was feeling about his role in the group, the role he played in his own life, that he was missing that the others might be feeling the same way.

Baekhyun’s eyes were already on the far side of the room, but he gave a quick nod. Chanyeol let him go. “Yes, Baekhyun. One hour and 45 minutes. Here.”

_________________________________________________________________

Chanyeol had managed to find a seat at a small table tucked into a dark corner of the club where he could down drinks, one after the other, and watch the people filling the huge room. He had wanted freedom, but now that he had it, he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. He had seen Baekhyun throwing himself around the dance floor with reckless abandon and spied Sehun leading Xiumin, obviously drunk, around the club by the wrist, presumably taking him to the restroom. And here he sat, 45 minutes until it was time to be scooped up by his manager, and he had done nothing more than get drunk and watch the crowd writhing around him having fun.

He’d seen Zico come in and had made his formal greeting to him before ducking away from the large contingent of idols, rappers, and other celebrities and finding this hiding spot. He was almost positive that no one had noticed him slip away, and certainly no one was paying him any attention at this point. Chanyeol stretched up, interlacing his fingers, palms reaching to the ceiling, and then leaned forward, draping himself across the table, head on his arms, exhausted and warm from the alcohol.

“Yah. Are you sure your manager gave you permission to pass out?”

Chanyeol’s head whipped up from his makeshift pillow to find a tall, lean man standing over him.

“Permission?” Chanyeol smirked, feeling the buzz from the handful of drinks he had already downed. “Of course he didn’t give me permission. He barely gives me permission to take a piss.”

The man slid into the second chair at the small table and placed a glass on the surface in front of him, half full of beer. “You’re an idol right? From that group? The one where all of the Chinese members left, right? EXO?”

Shit. He had been recognized. And he was drunk, so he didn’t _really_ care that he had been recognized, but he _knew_ that he should. “Yeah, I am in that idol group. Park. Chan. Yeol. Chanyeol,” he said, reaching his hand up toward the other man, still draped across the table with his head resting on his other bicep.

The man glanced down at the outstretched hand but didn’t make a move to grab it. “I know you probably never get the chance to let loose, but don’t make a scene by puking at my brother’s birthday party. It would be pretty shitty if the biggest headline to come from his event was ‘Fucking Idol Barfs All Over the Club.’ Don’t do that shit.”

“I don’t think the headlines would call me a ‘Fucking Idol,’ but I’ll keep that in mind,” Chanyeol said back, pulling himself up in his chair, growing annoyed. He managed to focus his eyes on the other man and was perturbed to see that he was smiling, broadly, at the slightly slurred retort.

“Excellent. Since we have that sorted, can I get you another drink? I’m guessing you haven’t had the chance to let your fucking, pretty hair down in forever.” The man laughed, a full-throated sound with the mirth reaching his eyes.

“My mom taught me better than that, I don’t accept drinks from strangers,” Chanyeol shot back.

The man snorted in obvious amusement. “Woo. Ji. Seok,” he said, looking directly into Chanyeol’s eyes, “I am Woo Ji Seok. That’s it. That is all that I am. Woo. Ji. Seok. Now we aren’t strangers anymore.”

“Then yes, you can buy me a drink. Since we aren’t strangers.”

“It’s an open bar.” Ji Seok looked at him, head cocked. “No buying involved. I’ll grab you a drink. And a water. Because I like you.”

“Maybe just the water. My manager is getting us in…” He pulled his phone from his pocket, pressing the button to show the home screen, “43 minutes. I should sober up. We have a thing in a few hours, and he’ll be pissed if I’m drunk.”

“Pissed… you’re all of what, 23? 24? You should be drunk. That’s, like, your job. Being drunk. Having fun. Those companies work your asses too hard. I’m always telling Ji Ho that he needs to chill the fuck out. He has his whole damn life to be famous, he’s wasting his youth.”

Chanyeol looked at him, totally confused, “Ji Ho? Drunk?”

Ji Seok snorted, again. “Ji Ho, Zico. His real name is Ji Ho. Woo. Ji. Ho.”

“Ahhhhh, Zico. Ji Ho,” Chanyeol sighed. “You don’t understand. This is what it takes to be… to be… successful. To be happy.”

“Happy? You don’t know the first thing about being happy, trust me.”

“Yah. My mom also taught me not to trust someone I just met,” Chanyeol barked out. “You aren’t an artist. You wouldn’t understand.”

“I wouldn’t understand…” Ji Seok looked away.


	3. Collaboration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chanyeol sees some action...in the studio. He likes it.

“Chanyeol, you’ve been begging for months to release your own thing. Now’s your chance. This collaboration will really put your name on the map. It’ll give you some street cred.” His manager, Tak Young Jun, looked at him, his eyes pleading with him to just accept the offer and move on. “If this goes well, we’ll consider letting you play a more active role in writing something for your next solo release.”

“Street cred? I don’t know if I’ve ever even heard of ₩uNo. How can someone I’ve never even heard of give me any kind of cred?” Chanyeol was feeling trapped. Yes, he wanted to put out his own music, stuff he had written, played, produced, not yet another song his company had hand-selected to make him look like a musician. He wanted to prove that he _was_ a musician.

“₩uNo is great. He was an idol rapper for a while, but it didn’t work out. He went underground. He’s released some of his own stuff and is getting recognition as a producer. It’ll be great. He’ll be great. You will be great together. Trust me. Trust the company.”

With that last sentence, Chanyeol no longer had the option to refuse. The company said jump, he jumped. The company had raised him, made him who and what he was today. He was not only contractually obligated to jump, it was his duty to jump exactly as they asked him to and to be happy he was even able to jump at all.

“Yes. I understand,” he sighed, resignation heavy in his voice. “Send me the parts I’m supposed to learn, and let me do some research on this guy. When will we be recording?”

“Oh, well, today… tonight actually, after the radio interview. I’ll send you the files and you can look through them in between events today. This will just be the vocal recording, the company will decide later if putting together a video will even be worth doing. It won’t be difficult,” Tak Young Jun stated, already moving on to the next item on his long list of things to plan for and accomplish for the day.

__________________________________________________________________________

It was late, eleven already, as the vehicle pulled into the almost empty parking lot in front of the SM building. Chanyeol was the only passenger in the van with one of the younger, newer managers driving. Everyone else had been taken back to the dorms for the evening to rest before they began preparations for their Japanese fan meet scheduled in two days. It all seemed a bit rushed, him doing this collaboration with someone he wasn’t familiar with. He wasn’t yet sure what the angle was, why the company needed him to put out something with ‘street cred.’ He wasn’t aware of any impending scandal or anything they needed to deflect fans away from, at least not in his group.  

It had been a packed day, but Chanyeol hadn’t had much difficulty in getting a feel for the lyrics that Tak Young Jun had sent him via email. It wasn’t overly complicated, he wouldn’t even have to memorize anything since he could read it off the screen of his phone as they recorded, but it was intense. He liked it. A lot. The roughly produced backing track had given him a feel for what to expect musically, and he felt like he could do it justice. Whatever writer they had hired for this song was talented. He didn’t recognize the style — he was positive he hadn’t yet worked with this person — but he didn’t think it would take more than a couple of hours, as long at the other rapper had any skill.

The building was largely as empty as the parking lot. They passed a night custodian, a few trainees with a dance instructor, and a writer carrying multiple cups of steaming coffee on his way to one of the recording studios. Chanyeol silently followed the manager through the dimmed halls, head down, eyes drooping a little with exhaustion, watching his own feet as they entered a more brightly lit room.

Inside the studio, three men stood crowded around the console, laying out settings, discussing timing, and preparing for the session. Chanyeol didn’t recognize any of the men from where they stood, backs to him, but he could see that they were all young, maybe only a few years older than him, dressed in casual street clothes, and very focused. They seemed incredibly invested in what they were doing, so he could only assume that one was the writer, one the producer, and maybe the third was the rapper he would be collaborating with. Now that his idol group was established, he often did collaborations with people whom he had never met, but he didn’t know the last time it had been with someone he was unfamiliar with. He found that it made him a little jittery.

“Hello,” he said in greeting and to get their attention. “Hello,” he said again as they turned toward him. “I’m Park Chanyeol. It’s good to meet you all, and I’ll do my best to give you the vocals you’re looking for tonight.” He raised his head from the bow and looked straight into the face of the man in the middle of the group. He was so familiar. He was tall — almost as tall as Chanyeol himself — had wide eyes, and soft brown hair. Chanyeol couldn’t place him, but he knew they had met before.

The man smiled, the right side of his mouth raising up just a little higher than the left. Chanyeol noticed it, noticed the man’s mouth. He didn’t usually notice things like that.

“I’m sure you’ll do just fine, Chanyeol, as long as you haven’t been drinking,” he chuckled.

“Drinking? I don’t really drink…” Oh. Shit. This was the guy from Zico’s party. This was Zico’s… brother? He had a name. Chanyeol _knew_ that he had a name, and that he had known that name for at least a little while that night. He bowed again, deeper this time, “I am so sorry. No, I haven’t been drinking. I would never drink while working. I really rarely have a drink…”

“Calm down, man. I was joking. Having a drink to loosen shit up before recording isn’t going to hurt anything, but it’s pretty clear that you wouldn’t do something like that. You seem like a professional.” The man let out another small laugh, mostly to himself. “My name is Woo Ji-Seok. ₩uNo in the studio. You can call me ₩uNo. These guys work with me.” He gestured to his left. “Kim Sae Jin is a sound engineer and,” waving to his right, “Park Shi Won just mostly hangs around looking cool. It helps with the vibe.” The man on his right just shrugged, in no way offended.

Chanyeol looked first to Kim Sae Jin and bowed. “I look forward to working with you. Thank you for coming out so late in the evening.” Turning to the other man, he bowed again. “And thank you. Are you the writer? Producer?”

Park Shi Won laughed, loud and clear, “No, man, ₩uNo wasn’t joking. My talents 100% lay in looking cool. He writes, performs, and produces his own shit. He only drags Sae Jin along because it sucks trying to lay tracks and sit at the console at the same time. This is entirely his game.”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t realize…” Chanyeol said. Spinning to look at ₩uNo, he bowed. Again.

“Stop. Stop with the apologizing and the bowing, kid. We’re here to have some fun and record a song that I thought might go with your voice. I’ll give you a little room to play around with some rhymes too. You need to loosen up. Relax.”

Chanyeol took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. This just all still seemed a little strange. He was here in the middle of the night, with a rapper he didn’t really know, to record a song. It just seemed off that his company would invest so much time and expense to give him the opportunity to play around with a song that they might not even want to release with a video. It seemed like a bizarre investment. But, he reminded himself, this shouldn’t take more than a couple hours, he might as well give it his best.

₩uNo and Kim Sae Jin finished prepping the soundboard while Chanyeol took off his coat and drank some water, performing some voice and mouth exercises to warm up. He saw Park Shi Won watching him, curiously. “What are you doing, exactly?” the man asked.

“Warming up. I’ve been doing interviews and small meetings today, but I haven’t been singing or rapping so I am not in the best condition right now. I need to warm up to make sure I get the right sound. It’ll be a faster process this way.”

₩uNo looked back over his shoulder. “Faster process? Are we keeping you from something?” he said with a smirk.

“No! Not what I meant. I just didn’t want to keep you all here because I wasn’t ready. I’m…”

“If you say ‘sorry,’ so help me I will walk right out of this studio now,” ₩uNo said, turning his back to the console. He didn’t really sound irritated, more amused. “Finish warming up, and let’s get to this. You get a chance to check out the lyrics? You got it down?”

Chanyeol laughed, a little, quietly, starting to feel more comfortable. “Ok, fine, I’m not sorry. And yes, I was able to check out the song and the guide music today between events. I feel pretty good about it. I really like what you wrote.”

“Yeah, but you’re ready to make it your own right? You’re the artist, right? I wouldn’t be able to understand what you do…” Another laugh from ₩uNo.

Chanyeol looked at him, confused for a split second until the memory from the party came back to him again. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know you. I thought you were just Zico’s brother. I had no idea who you were.”

“Just Zico’s brother. Yeah, I get that often enough.” ₩uNo, no, Woo Ji Seok, looked down with a frown. His friends made eye contact with each other before both turning, in unison, to look at Chanyeol. He had no idea what he’d said wrong.

Kim Sae Jin, the engineer, narrowed his eyes at Chanyeol, “This dude’s got clout in this industry all on his own, he doesn’t rely on his brother to make his music happen. If you looked up his credits….”

“Whatever, let’s just get this track down. I think it’ll be good. And I meant it when I asked if you were ready to make it your own. I’m not the kind of writer that thinks so highly of himself that I need you to stick to what’s on the page. I want you to feel the song, use what’s there, and make something better. Collaboration is the best way to bring out the soul of a song. I can’t possibly know everything that needs to be said when I’m writing, but between the two of us, we can find it. I’ll be changing up my own parts to play off of you and to capture what I’m feeling in the moment. I expect you to do the same.”

Chanyeol had never really been given the freedom to improvise in the studio while laying down an actual track. He often took time to play in the studio by himself or with one or two other members of the group, but when it came to recording their songs, they were under strict orders to perform what was written and to get it right as quickly as possible. It was more science than art. He was a little intimidated by what ₩uNo was proposing, but he was definitely willing to give it a try.

He moved into the recording booth with ₩uNo. They pulled up the stools in the room so they would be side by side and put the large earphones around their necks. Chanyeol removed old sheet music — left from a previous recording session — from the stand in front of him and replaced it with his phone, screen showing the lyrics sent to him earlier that day.

“I hadn’t realized that you were going to give me so much flexibility with the song. I… I’ve gotten familiar with what you have written here. I’ll stick to this the first couple of times through and then try to change it up as we go along. Is that OK?” he said in a hushed tone, not looking up from the stand.

“Of course, kid. Get comfortable. I’m not your boss. I’m not here to tell you what to do. I wanted to make some music with you because I like what I’ve heard from you so far. I think you could do a lot more if you were given the chance. After meeting you at the party and hearing your work, I wanted to give you that chance, to show you what you could be doing.”

“You listen to my stuff? You don’t strike me as a big fan of idol groups.” Chanyeol lifted his eyes to look into ₩uNo’s face.

“I’m not into idol groups. I don’t listen to your stuff. I _listened_ to your stuff after we met at the club. You said you were an artist and I wanted to see for myself. I could see that you have some talent, but you’ve almost trained it right out of yourself. I wanted to see what you have left.” ₩uNo smiled again, the left side slightly higher than the right. Chanyeol watched his mouth. Again. “OK, let’s do this.”

_________________________________________________________________

They worked until four in the morning on a track that Chanyeol had been sure he would get down in less than two hours. But it was down. The rough cuts were… amazing. It had been difficult for him to loosen up, to move from what was written on his screen to what he really wanted to say, but he’d gotten there. ₩uNo was patient with him, was able to bring him out of himself in a way he had never been before. The process had been liberating.

Now, in the van, on his way back to the dorm, exhausted and exhilarated, Chanyeol felt a tightening in his gut as he thought about his night. He was excited and inspired. Working with ₩uNo had been intense. The man had so much to say and million different ways that he wanted to say it, but he was also completely open to hearing new ideas, to mixing their ideas and creating new ones. Being in the studio had never felt like this before, and Chanyeol wanted to do it again.


	4. Round Two, Anyone?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chanyeol has busy schedule but can't quite shake the buzz

The buzz from working with ₩uNo stayed with Chanyeol for a few days after they had finished in the studio. Despite having very little sleep, he had been focused and driven during preparations for the fan meet in Japan. The dance instructor had insisted on taking them through some older choreography to refresh their muscle memory, on top of practicing the dances to the newer songs. Their vocal instructor kept them singing in the practice rooms until almost midnight, and he knew that their managers and other team members were busy preparing games and skits for them to do for their fans.

The members seemed to feed off Chanyeol’s energy. Their movements were a little sharper, their songs a little more inspired. It felt like old times, when they weren’t quite so tired. That wasn’t right… They were probably even more tired than… When they weren’t quite so jaded. What they felt, was good.

They were all back at the dorm by one in the morning. They packed enough for the two days and one night they would be staying away and went to sleep. Their flight was at 10 a.m., but they would have to be up much earlier to ensure that everyone was airport ready before hitting the road. They loved their fans, but they all definitely missed being able to fly in comfy clothes.

The flight to Japan was largely uneventful. They had moved up in the world, were more famous than ever, but with such a large group travel expenses were high. When they traveled all together, they still traveled in coach. As the tallest, this was hardest on Chanyeol. When he could, he always selected the aisle seat so he could stretch out his legs at regular intervals. On this particular flight, he was sitting next to Kyung Soo. His best friend had his head resting on Chanyeol’s arm, eyes closed, and arms tightly crossed over his chest. Chanyeol had slipped his ear buds into his ears and listened yet again to the guide music from the song he had recorded with ₩uNo. He had long since memorised the lyrics, but he had them pulled up on his phone so he could read them along with the music, trying to figure out what he could have, should have, done differently during the session.

“What. Are. You. Doing.” Kyung Soo hissed at him, not even opening his eyes.  “You haven’t stopped shaking your leg for 37 minutes. 37 minutes, Chanyeol. I’m getting motion sickness.”

Chanyeol ripped the bud from his right ear. “Woah, man, chill.” He smiled, twisting a little in his seat, forcing Kyung Soo to lift his head so Chanyeol could pat his cheek. “It’s just the guide music to the track I recorded the night before last. It’s great. You should hear it. You know, when the track is done. Not the guide music.”

“You’re listening to guide music for a track that you’ve already recorded? We have, like, one hour and 45 minutes of uninterrupted nap time just sitting on this plane, and you’re listening to the guide music for a song that you already finished? You suck.”

“It’s just so good. I can’t stop. I feel really excited about it.” Chanyeol’s grin widened even further, he kicked his feet around in a little seated dance to further demonstrate his excitement. Kyung Soo seemed to remain unimpressed, but Chanyeol knew that his friend would be happy for him… he just wasn’t the best at showing it.

“Fine. Be excited. Listen to it until your ears bleed. Just stop moving around, and give me back your arm. I need sleep. Why did I agree to do two movies _and_ promote the new album all within the next four months? Why? Shit.”

___________________________________________________________

The fan meet went extremely well. There were thousands of screaming girls, boys, women, and men crowded into the huge stadium. The group’s members were hyped. The enthusiasm they had fostered during the preparations continued with them through the whole event, and the three hour program sped by in what felt like minutes. It was like old times. They danced, they teased each other, played pranks, and fell just as much in love with the crowd as the crowd did with them. Nights like this were exactly what made all of the sacrifices — lost sleep, food, youth — worth it.

The group members were bused from the venue back to the hotel immediately following the show. They all split — heading to their rooms to eat room service, shower, and go to bed — knowing they would be woken early in the morning to record a Japanese variety show before flying back to Seoul in the afternoon.

Chanyeol was sharing a room with Kyung Soo. He always shared a room with Kyung Soo. The others rotated around, switching up roommates, but after so many years together, everyone knew that Chanyeol and Kyung Soo preferred to be together. No one could calm the hyper Chanyeol down as quickly as his best friend, and no other member besides Chanyeol could handle Kyung Soo’s insomnia.

They ate their instant noodles in silence, Chanyeol with one earbud back in his ear, listening to the guide music again, Kyung Soo with a towel wrapped around his wet hair. “Today was amazing,” Kyung Soo said without looking up from his bowl. “Really amazing. It reminded me of the way things used to be, when we first debuted. It just felt right again.”

“Yeah,” Chanyeol agreed and then yawned deeply. “There was just so much energy. I could do this forever if it always felt that good.” He pushed his wheeled dinner tray away from his bed and stretched back, arms behind his head. He stared at the ceiling for a few long minutes, smiling to himself.

Kyung Soo drained the liquid from his bowl and pushed his own tray away. He stood, stretched, and grabbed both trays, dragging them out of the way and toward the door. “It’s time for sleep. It was a great day. We did well, and we need to do well tomorrow too.” He pulled the blanket and sheets away from his pillow and crawled under them.

Chanyeol sat up to turn off the lamp between their beds. He paused for just a moment to smile one more time at his friend, knowing that Kyung Soo had already closed his eyes.

________________________________________________________________

The group made it to the lobby early the next morning, cheat sheets in hand, to practice on the way to the set where they would film a variety show entirely in Japanese. A few of them were comfortable in the language, but not all of them, so all games and interview questions were sent in advance so they could be adequately prepared. It was clear that the energy level was much lower this morning than it had been the previous day, but they were all still in good spirits.

When they arrived at the set they were given time to dress and put on makeup. While waiting for everyone to finish, Chanyeol thumbed through his Instagram account, reading random comments, checking pictures in which he had been tagged, and finally looking through his new followers. There were over nine million people already following his account, but he still got new ones every day, and he liked to look through them sometimes, awed at the variety of people that were interested in his daily life.

₩uNo. ₩uNo had started following his account. Holy shit. That was great. ₩uNo had looked him up, had probably looked through his photos, seen the one he had posted last night from the fan meet where he and Kyung Soo had used the selfie stick on stage, capturing the expanse of crowd screaming behind them. He clicked on ₩uNo’s profile to look through some of his recent photos. There were the requisite selfies in restaurants, shots of friends drinking, and photos in a studio. There were videos too. Chanyeol clicked on the most recent video and turned up the volume on his headphones. It was a clip of the song they had worked on together. It was short, 15 seconds max, there were no shots of him, ₩uNo hadn’t used his voice, there was no obvious ploy to capitalize on Chanyeol’s fame. It was just a short clip of what had the potential to be a great song. He couldn’t wait to hear more. Excited by the potential of this song, of doing more with ₩uNo, Chanyeol clicked the heart under the video, clicked back to the profile, and hit follow.  

They were called to the stage and made to sit in two rows. The show was pretty standard, they answered the same questions that they were routinely asked during interviews around the world. Who was the easiest to work with? Who has the shortest temper? Who would you date if you were a girl? Who would you let your sister date? They were prepared for these answers. But, being a veteran group, they had also started hearing questions that were more difficult to answer. Who is the most likely to leave the group to become a solo artist? Would Kyung Soo leave the group to act full time? What was it like now that they were apart, working on solo projects more often than they were together? It was a challenge to answer these questions in Korean, but trying to answer them in Japanese was even harder. It was emotionally draining providing a good answer without misleading anyone or making mistakes.

When the filming ended, they were all exhausted and silent. They packed their phone chargers, extra clothes, books, and other distractions from around the dressing room into their carry on bags and loaded into the vans. No one spoke on the way to the airport. No one chatted as they waited for their flight.

Chanyeol felt like he had run, full speed, into a wall as he walked through the small door onto the plane. He was completely wiped, both physically and mentally. He hadn’t had much sleep in the last few days and had put in so much effort in the studio, preparing for this trip, and putting on a good stage, that he hadn’t realized just how little energy he had left. He waited for Suho and Kyung Soo to stow their bags and settle into their seats, leaning heavily on his own seatback, before he slumped down and buckled in. His limbs felt like lead, and his eyes were heavy.

As the plane took off, Kyung Soo again rested his head on Chanyeol’s arm, crossed his own arms, and slipped into a restless sleep. Chanyeol wanted very much to do the same, but sleep wouldn’t come. He pulled out his phone, unrolled the earbuds he had left wrapped around it, and thumbed through his list of songs. Nothing felt right. He paused, index finger hesitating for only a second over the guide music before hitting play. He lay his head back on the seat’s headrest, closed his eyes, and listened to the song, over and over, until they landed back in Seoul.

The members had been given the remainder of the day off, some going back to the dorm to rest and others focusing on solo activities. Chanyeol went straight to his room, slipped on comfortable clothing, pulled the blackout curtains tightly over his window, and fell asleep.

____________________________________________________________

Chanyeol woke with a start in his pitch-black dorm room. He wasn’t quite sure what time it was… or even what day it was, but he was pretty sure that it was very early in the morning. He pulled his phone from his bedside table and used the light from the screen to find his glasses, and put them on his face. He sat up and noticed that it was only four in the morning. It was early, but he had gotten more consecutive hours of sleep that night than he had in months. His body was done sleeping even though his brain would have liked several more hours. He stood and stretched, arms raised to the ceiling, hands woven together, his thin, black t-shirt raising up to show a strip of skin at his waist just above the elastic band of his gray joggers. His hair lay pressed tightly to his head on one side and stood completely vertical on the other. The creases on his cheek from his pillow were deep and would take some time to fully disappear. He felt like he hadn’t moved an inch during the last twelve hours.

He noticed Kyung Soo asleep in the bed across the room and wondered when he had come back from the table-read he had attended the evening before. He silently made his way to his desk and opened his laptop. He hadn’t checked his email in days and knew that he should write to his mother, his sister, and a few other friends. He was also expecting a script for a web drama that he needed to review, some new songs to start learning, and the specs for a clothing line commercial he had recently become the spokesmodel for. He mentally processed his to-do list  as he logged in to his email and started scrolling through the inbox.

His eyes caught on something, and he hesitated, the arrow of his mouse poised over an email forwarded to him by Tak Young Jun with the subject line “Finished Song.” It was already done. He couldn’t be sure, just by the email subject line, but he just knew, in his gut, that this was the finished song he had recorded with ₩uNo. He pulled the headphones from behind his laptop and made sure they were securely plugged into the computer before opening the email and scrolling down to the attached file. He opened it up and pressed play.

The song was exactly what he had hoped it would be. He closed his eyes and leaned back in his desk chair, hand tapping out the rhythm on his knee. He heard ₩uNo’s voice spitting out lyrics fast and furious in his ears, he heard them both singing the chorus, and then himself rapping the next verse. He heard words he barely remembered saying but couldn’t forget feeling. This was _exactly_ what he had hoped for.

When the song ended, he opened his eyes and hit play again before going back to the email to begin reading. Tak Young Jun hadn’t included any text in the email so what he saw came directly from ₩uNo.

 

**To: Tak Young Jun  
From: Woo Ji Seok**

**Subject: Finished Song**

Hyung,

Thank you for the hook up with Chanyeol. That kid has talent, and I’m glad that you let me work with him. I know it was a big ask to get him in the studio, so I really owe you one. The song turned out better than even I had expected, and my hopes were high. It’s attached. I’ll send the final copies and all of the data along to the engineers at SM, but I wanted to ask you to get this to Chanyeol so he can check it out. Feel free to give him my number if he wants to get in touch. I wouldn’t mind getting together with him again if he’s interested. 010-4321-8617.

**₩uNo**

 

Chanyeol read through the message three times before he looked away from his screen. He had no idea why, but he was so relieved to know that ₩uNo had found him talented, that he had enjoyed working with him. He knew that their working together had been ₩uNo’s idea, but he was surprised to learn that he had pulled in a favor from Chanyeol’s manager in order to make it happen. His stomach clenched at the idea that ₩uNo had made such an effort. And what did it mean that he wouldn’t mind getting together again? Did that mean that he wanted to spend more time in the studio? Make more music? Did he want to do something else together? Like hang out? Eat dinner sometime? Would it be weird to text him? What would he say?

He grabbed his phone from where he had placed it beside his computer and quickly opened up the contacts, it was too early to send someone a message, but he should save ₩uNo’s number into his phone. He started to type in ‘₩uNo’ and then hesitated, ₩uNo was his stage name, but maybe he should save it as Woo Ji Seok, his real name. He had first introduced himself as Woo Ji Seok, maybe he preferred that. But he had gone exclusively by ₩uNo in the studio and signed his email with the moniker, so maybe that was better. Shit, why did it matter, why was he stressing out over how to save this guy’s number in his phone?

He entered the name, Woo Ji Seok, and saved the contact. There. Done. He stared at the entry. When should he text him? Was it too early? Chanyeol clearly remembered him getting a text early in the morning when they had been in the studio together, so maybe he was a notorious night owl. Or maybe he had told someone that he would be up late on that specific night because he would be in the studio. Oh. My. God. This was so stupid. Just send a fucking text.

Chanyeol pulled up the new text screen and tapped out the message:

 

**Chanyeol**  
Thanks for the song.   
I loved it.   
Would love to work with you again sometime

 

And hit send before he could second guess himself. He held his breath. It was clearly too early in the morning to be texting any sane person. Shit. He had said love. Twice. He threw his phone down on his desk. He held his breath.

The phone vibrated.

 

**Woo Ji-Seok**  
Dude. Its 4:42 in the fucking morning.   
You should be asleep.   
Text me in like 4 hours.   
We should get coffee.

 

Well, shit. Again. He had woken him. That means he woke him up, right? Did he mean that they should get coffee sometime or get coffee in four hours? What the crap? Chanyeol hit reply.

 

**Chanyeol**  
I am so sorry for waking you.   
I’ll text later. 4 hours.   
Coffee today?

 

Almost immediately, the phone vibrated again.

 

**Woo Ji-Seok**  
Stop being sorry.   
You are clearly not going to sleep. Coffee in 30 minutes.   
There’s a shitty place in Insadong open all night.   
I’ll text you the address. Take a cab.

 

Chanyeol yelped and stood so quickly his desk chair toppled over and slammed into the floor.

“What the fuck, Chanyeol?” Kyung Soo rolled away from his best friend and huffed loudly.

 


	5. Coffee and Studio Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our boys enjoy an early morning escape and Chanyeol gets to see the underground at work.
> 
> Oh, and just a taste of skinship. The merest hint.

It was 5:30 in the morning when Chanyeol made his way into the coffee shop hidden in one of the narrow alleys in Insadong. It had only taken him minutes to flatten his hair under a snapback and slip into a pair of ripped up jeans. The black mask he wore across his face had served to hide the pillow creases on his cheek, and he hoped that they had smoothed out during the cab ride over. He didn’t want to seem too eager to meet up with ₩uNo, but he definitely felt excited beyond what was reasonable.

He spotted the man hunched over a small table in the back of the cluttered room, a huge cup of coffee in front of him alongside a notebook. ₩uNo was completely focused on whatever he was writing or drawing on the paper in front of him and didn’t notice Chanyeol as he made his way over to the table. Chanyeol stood close to the man’s elbow, peering over his shoulder to get a look at what he assumed would be lyrics to another song. He was wrong. It was beautiful. The pencil drawing was of an alley, with a long, winding walkway, small buildings strung, one after the other, on both sides. There were storefronts and signs, plants, and windows. The detail was amazing. It was this alley, the alley they were now in.

“Woah. How long have you been waiting here?” Chanyeol whispered, realizing too late that he was leaning next to the man’s ear, making it all seem much more intimate than he had intended.

₩uNo yelped and sat up, the back of his head bumping into Chanyeol’s shoulder, surprised at no longer being alone. “You just took at least a year from my life,” he said, still looking straight forward, unblinking. “And don’t you dare say that you’re sorry,” he added as he spun in his chair to look at Chanyeol, still standing behind him.

“Wasn’t going to,” Chanyeol said, stepping around to the second chair at the table, chuckling to himself. “I’m not. That was hilarious.”

“Shit, man… You look like a thug, all big and imposing, with that mask on.” Leaning over the table, ₩uNo reached up and hooked his fingers around the fabric, pulling it down. “There’s no one else in this coffee shop but the owner, and that halmoni has no clue who you are, I promise. Be comfortable, take it off.”

With the mask now tucked under his chin, the pillow creases on Chanyeol’s cheek, not entirely faded, were now visible. His hair was poking out from under his hat, and the sides were bending his already prominent ears out even further.  The other man stared at him for just a couple of seconds longer than necessary. He swallowed and looked down.

“I wasn’t just waiting for you,” he coughed out, trying to break the new, odd tension that had crept up between them. “I was already here when you texted. Sometimes I can’t sleep. I used to just walk around. That’s how I found this place, and now I occasionally come here and draw. Just to kill the time.”

“So why did you tell me to text you in four hours? You were up already…”

“It was 4:30 in the morning. You should have been asleep. You should still be asleep. Jesus, the sun is just starting to come up.”

“I’m used to weird hours. I got a full night, more than a full night. Don’t worry about me.” Chanyeol tapped his fingers on the table, not quite sure what to do with his hands. “You draw too?” Chanyeol said, gesturing at the notebook. “Show me what you’re doing.”

“It’s just a hobby. Something to do with my hands.” ₩uNo flipped through pages. “There’s nothing special in here.”

“Show me,” Chanyeol begged. He dragged his chair around the table, leaning in closer, hand resting on the table next to the notebook.

“Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” ₩uNo opened the book to the front page and began to slowly turn the pages while Chanyeol watched, sometimes looking at the pictures and sometimes looking at ₩uNo’s face.

“Wait!” Chanyeol said. “That one’s awesome.”

“Dude, that’s just a fucking doodle. It’s nothing.” ₩uNo said, lifting the paper to turn to the next page.

“No way. I love it.” The design was bold with thick slashes, almost like claw marks but not quite so obvious. It was like an artist's impression of what a lion might leave on its prey.

“You can have it. If you want.” ₩uNo looked up at Chanyeol, eyebrows drawn together.

Chanyeol looked back at him, eyes wide, a smile slowly spreading across his face. “Really?”

“Of course, it’s all yours.” ₩uNo ripped the page from his notebook, folding it over.

Chanyeol opened the paper again, taking a quick look. Then he folded it over and slipped it into his pocket for safekeeping. “Thanks. Really. Thanks.” He looked at ₩uNo, realising that he was again leaning in close to the man’s face, only an intimate space left between them.

₩uNo coughed, “Coffee. You should get some coffee. The halmoni barely knows my name, and I’ve been coming here for months, but she makes the best coffee in Seoul. Trust me.”

“Do you need a refill, ₩uNo?” Chanyeol asked, rising from his chair.

“Ji Seok. Call me Ji Seok. ₩uNo is my stage name. It feels weird when people use it outside of the studio or performances. I mean, it’s different when it’s a fan or something, but we’re friends, right?”

“Right. Yes, we’re friends.” Chanyeol did his damndest to keep his face even. Inside, he was grinning wildly and fist pumping in the air. He had been right saving the phone number under Woo Ji Seok and not ₩uNo! They were friends. “Um… Refill, Ji Seok?”

“No, I’m good. If I’m going to get any sleep today, I’d better stop now.”

After getting coffee and looking, lovingly, at the pastries being delivered by a bakery, Chanyeol slid back into his chair. Looking at the mug in Chanyeol’s hands, Ji Seok gestured back at the counter and attached display case. “Just coffee? This place gets its food from some bakery that’s been getting lots of attention these days. All of it’s delicious. You strike me as having a sweet tooth, you should try it.”

“Nah, I have a thing today. I really shouldn’t eat much or it’ll show.”

“What in the fuck kind of thing are you doing that one stupid pastry is going to show?” Ji Seok’s eyes narrowed.

“I got signed to be the model for some designer. We have a photoshoot today. The concept is… well… I won’t be wearing a hell of a lot so…” Chanyeol trailed off.

Ji Seok closed his eyes and slowly rolled his head around in a wide circle, seeming to give himself a minute to put his thoughts together. He started speaking before he opened his eyes, looking exhausted, “You burn like 10,000 calories a day just dancing, not counting time I’m sure you put in at the gym. I am guessing you eat maybe two meals a day, and most of that is ramyun.” His eyes opened, looking directly into Chanyeol’s. “Yeah, you look amazing. Your body is… but your body would be… like that… even if you ate more... if you let yourself enjoy something good every now and then. Eat a pastry if you want a pastry.”

“No, really, it’s OK. I’m not hungry. The coffee is good for now.” Chanyeol broke the eye contact, looking at his feet. “I eat well. I do. I’m just not really hungry right now. I’ll eat after the shoot. Don’t worry so much. I’m not the visual, so I eat just fine…” he tried cracking a joke, aiming a small smile in Ji Seok’s direction.

Ji Seok smirked, somewhere between amused and annoyed. “Whatever. You’re a big kid, you make your own decisions. And now that your stupid pillow face is better, they should like you well enough.”

“Whatever, you like a man with a pillow face,” Chanyeol shot back. Crap. Was he flirting? Did he just flirt?

“Depends on the man, but yeah, it’s not so bad,” Ji Seok said, that right side of his mouth going up in his crooked smile.

Chanyeol swallowed thickly, and stuttered. “So… so, yeah, Tak Young Jun forwarded me your email with the song attached,” he said, changing the subject. “The song was great. I really loved it.” Shit, he said love again. “It seemed like you and our manager are friends, that he helped you get me in the studio. I’m glad you made that effort. Surprised, but glad.”

“Hyung was my manager for awhile. We stayed close. It’s no big deal. Like I said, I was interested in your stuff after we met. Ji Ho, Zico, thinks you do ok so I checked it out. You reminded me a little of myself, back in the day. I wanted to hear what you could do.”

“Your manager? I thought he had only worked for big labels, I didn’t realize… Wait, were you in an idol group?”

“No big secret.” Ji Seok leaned back in his seat. “I was in a group. It didn’t last long. I hated it. Wasn’t for me, so I moved on. For me, it’s about the music. My music. I wasn’t very good at doing the stuff someone else thought would make me famous. I’m not a huge fan of the whole idol thing. With my brother, it’s different. I support him with what he is doing, but he is a loud mouth, little shit that always ends up getting his way, so I’m not to worried about him.”

Chanyeol sipped his coffee, taking in this new information. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He set his coffee on the table and pulled it out. Speak of the devil himself. “Ah, Tak Young Jun is trying to find me. I didn’t tell anyone I was going out… I have to head to the shoot. I'd better go before he has a fit. Thank you. For everything. Thank you for the coffee, and thank you for the studio time.”

“I have a thing tonight.” Ji Seok looked over at Chanyeol hesitantly. “I’m working with some guys, producing a song at my studio. If your stuff doesn’t go late, if you have time, you should come. It’d be good.”

“What time? Where? I’m not sure what we have on the schedule, but…”

“I don’t know exactly. They’ll come over around 8:00… but we’ll likely be there most of the night. Just… just text me. If you want to come, just text me, and I’ll send you the information.” Ji Seok scooped up his notebook and pencil, preparing to walk Chanyeol out of the small coffee shop, “It’d be good to see you again. Sooner rather than later.”

_________________________________________________________________

The shoot was fine. The interview after the shoot was fine. And the dance practice after the interview was fine too. It was all fine. Now that it was all done, now that it was after 11:00pm, Chanyeol felt… tired. Tired and a little excited. He knew it was stupid, that he would regret missing out on sleep, but he really wanted to go to the studio. He wanted to watch Ji Seok… no, in the studio it was ₩uNo… he wanted to watch ₩uNo work again. He wanted to be around him, feel his energy, see what he would do with another artist. He pulled his phone out of his bag and thumbed through the contacts, pulling up Ji Seok’s number, and shooting him a text.

 

**Chanyeol**  
Schedule’s done.  
Still want me around?

 

He stared at his phone.

Waiting.

Anticipating.

Seven minutes passed.

Finally.

 

**Woo Ji Seok  
** What kind of stupid question is that?

 

Four more minutes.

 

**Woo Ji Seok**  
Just get your ass over here.  
I’ll send the address.

_________________________________________________________________

Chanyeol’s taxi pulled up outside of an old, worn-down warehouse in the middle of a not-so-great part of Seoul. He double-checked the address on his phone and compared it to the navigation system on the dash of the cab. It matched. Was this a joke? Was it funny to Ji Seok to send him out somewhere like this?

He paid the driver and asked him to wait for a few minutes so he could confirm the location; make sure he wouldn’t be stranded in this warehouse district having to call Tak Young Jun to come and get him. Chanyeol slipped out of the back seat and walked up to the oversized double doors. He could hear talking on the other side, the rumbling of multiple voices, mostly male, but maybe one or two females. He knocked.

The talking stopped.

He knocked again.

One of the doors slid open and Park Shin Won stuck his head out, looking from left to right until he spotted Chanyeol. “Yah, kid, get in here. ₩uNo said you were coming.” He waved at the cab, indicating that it should take off, and grabbed at Chanyeol’s sleeve, dragging him in. “You shouldn’t knock here. We all thought it was a ghost or something. This place is creepy as shit, but it was a great space for a studio so ₩uNo just _had_ to have it. What-the-fuck-ever, it’s his studio so he doesn’t listen to me. Next time, just come in.” Chanyeol was amused by the man. He could see why they kept him around.

“Sorry. I mean, I’m not sorry. I just mean I didn’t know that I shouldn’t knock. I won’t do it again.” They were in the middle of a wide open room, lit by lamps — some floor lamps, some on tables — walls lined with mismatched couches. There were maybe half a dozen people in the room, just hanging out, relaxing, drinking. No one seemed to pay any attention to him as he entered the space. Chanyeol didn’t recognize anyone in the room until he spotted Zico, splayed out on a couch with a woman curled up at his side. He didn’t know the idol well, but he felt a little more comfortable knowing he was in the room. Zico nodded at him from across the room. Chanyeol nodded back. He didn’t see Ji Seok anywhere.

He turned to Park Shin Won, “Where is… Ji… I mean ₩uNo? Isn’t he…?”

“He’s at the board of course, in the studio. He told you he was working, didn’t he? Did you think this was a social gathering?”

Zico stood up, made his way over to them. “I’ll take him back. Hyung’ll want to know he’s here.” Turning to Chanyeol, “He hates people coming over here in the middle of the night alone. He doesn’t think it’s safe, so he feels anxious until he knows everyone is accounted for. It’ll fuck with his work until he knows you’re here.”

Zico turned and headed toward a short hallway in the back of the room, not looking back to see if Chanyeol was following him. He was all pride and swagger, like he owned the place, or like it pleased him that his brother owned the place.

As comfortable as the front room had seemed, it was clear that the real money had been spent on the actual recording space. The room was kept clean, sparsely furnished, and the sound engineering equipment was top-notch. The soundproofed booth was large and, despite it being well equipped with instruments, wasn’t crowded. The two men in the booth had plenty of room to move freely as they recorded their parts. Ji Seok/₩uNo, and his sound engineer, Kim Sae Jin, were at the console, heads close together as they discussed something in hushed tones.

As the men ended a section of the song, ₩uNo pressed a button and spoke to them. “Better, that was better. I want it one more time… I want you to feel the music, but you know, make sure you’re aiming your voice at the mic. I keep missing shit.” He sat back, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands.

“Yo, hyung, Chanyeol made it,” Zico said before sliding down on the couch pushed against the back wall of the studio.

Ji Seok spun around on his wheeled chair, eyes searching for Chanyeol. “Great, there you are! Interested in watching these fuckers record? Or do you want to hang out in the front with the others and have a beer?”

“If it’s alright, I think I’d like to watch you guys work, ₩uNo.”

“Ji Seok. Stick with Ji Seok. Friends, remember? It’s better.” He gestured to the couch where Zico was sitting and then spun his chair back around.

Chanyeol looked at the couch and made a move to sit down, noticing the way that Zico was watching him. He seemed… perplexed… or concerned… or both.

The recording continued for another hour and a half with very little conversation outside of Ji Seok guiding the rappers on how to get the most from their song. Chanyeol wasn’t bored for a second. It was clear that Ji Seok knew what he wanted and knew exactly what he and the rappers needed to do in order to achieve it. It was a very different kind of coaching than he himself had received when they had been in the studio at SM. This was more technical — how to get the sound they wanted, how to arrange the music. With him, it had been more about how to say what he was feeling, how to feel what he was saying. This felt like work, his session had felt so much more personal.

Chanyeol couldn’t keep his eyes off Ji Seok.

As they were wrapping things up, Chanyeol, staring at Ji Seok, started to stand when he felt a hand on his arm, anchoring him to the couch.

“He’s not gonna disappear, man,” Zico was talking to him. “If you blink, he’ll still be there. I have been sitting here for the last however long, and you haven’t even blinked since you sat down. Shit, man… hyung’s awesome, but your eyes have got to sting by now.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Chanyeol mumbled, looking down at his lap. He had honestly forgotten that the other idol was in the room. Zico stood, walking over to his brother and wrapping him in a hug, telling him that he was heading back to the dorms for the night. He kept his eyes on Chanyeol over his brother’s shoulder and winked at him before pulling away and leaving the room.

_________________________________________________________________

“So, what’d you think? Those guys are clowns, right? I don’t know man, they just seemed to have something when I saw them at an underground show, but whatever it was, they don’t have it in the studio. Sucks.” Ji Seok fell onto the couch next to Chanyeol, a cold beer in his hands. He had wrapped up the work, sent the rappers and his friends home, claiming to be too exhausted to party. It was just he and Chanyeol now, sitting on the couch back in the studio area.

“They weren’t terrible. You were great. It was like you just knew what you wanted and you worked them into it every time. Eventually.”

“Eventually doesn’t really cut it. I can’t really afford eventually.” He laid his head back on the couch and closed his eyes. “Fuck. I never did get to sleep today. I’m exhausted.”

“Shit. You should have said. I’ll take off. You should get to sleep.” Chanyeol started to stand, hands pressing into the couch on either side of his legs to boost himself up.

“Wait.” He felt a warm hand wrap around his wrist, tugging him back down. “Just… wait a minute. I’ll get a cab with you. But I need a minute.”

Chanyeol sat back, shoulder to shoulder with Ji Seok. He let his head fall back against the couch and closed his own eyes. It struck him that he had been up since four in the morning. That it was now almost two the next morning. His body felt heavy. His breathing evened out, matching that of Ji Seok as they started to fall asleep, side by side, with Ji Seok’s hand still wrapped around Chanyeol’s wrist.

 


	6. Good Mornings and Apologies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chanyeol's in a smidge of trouble for pulling a disappearing act, but his much happier mindset might just help smooth some stuff over.
> 
> And there's flirting. Over text. My favorite.

Chanyeol woke to the sound of his phone buzzing repeatedly in his pocket. He had no idea what time it was. He had no clue where he was. All he knew was that he was kind of sitting up and kind of laying down and his side hurt and he wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to move his neck again.

“Shut that fucking phone up.”

“Fuck you, Kyung Soo,” Chanyeol shot back without opening his eyes.

“Fuck you and whomever Kyung Soo is. Shut that fucking phone up,” Ji Seok said, sitting up and pushing Chanyeol off of him. The idol had draped himself over the other man in his sleep.

That was not Kyung Soo’s voice. This was not Kyung Soo. Chanyeol shot up to a seated position and spun around to look at Ji Seok. “Oh. God.”

Ji Seok looked at him, smiled that smile, and said, “You must have the softest skin on the frickin’ planet. You have pillow creases again.” He gently pressed his index finger into Chanyeol’s cheek.

Chanyeol’s eyes widened, grin slowly spreading across his face. “I didn’t exactly have a pillow. It’s a Ji Seok crease. I have a you crease on my face.”

“Fair enough,” Ji Seok said through a chuckle. “I’m kind of getting used to you all creased up. Not sure I would even recognize you with a normal face.”

“It’s because I don’t _have_ a normal face. It’s extraordinary.”

“I don’t know if I would go with extraordinary, maybe slightly above average.” Ji Seok smirked.

“Whatever, Ji Seok, you have now seen the gates of heaven open, you wouldn’t know what to do if you couldn’t see this face again,” Chanyeol threw back.

“What _would_ I do?” He tapped his finger on his chin, eyes looking up at the ceiling. “What would I do? It would be devastating for a minute or two, and then I would probably find some other darling little idol to put on a track.”

Chanyeol clutched his chest with both hands and threw himself back on the couch. “Dagger to the heart.”

“We don’t want you in any pain, kid, so how about you don’t deny me that pretty face… What the hell time is it anyway?”

Chanyeol tugged his phone from his pocket with one hand while cupping his own cheek with the other, pulling a cute face. It had stopped buzzing but now showed 12 missed calls and 23 new text messages. It was 10:00 in the morning. He had spent the night — and most of the morning — with Ji Seok. In the studio. He was dead. He unlocked the screen and immediately pulled up his contacts to return Tak Young Jun’s call.

“The time? What time is it?” Ji Seok asked again, searching for his own phone.

“Shhhh. I’m dead. Or I will be in two seconds,” Chanyeol hissed back.

“Did you just shush me? What the hell, man?” Ji Seok looked back at Chanyeol from the console, where he had gone to find his phone.

Chanyeol held up his palm in Ji Seok’s direction to quiet him as he started speaking urgently into the phone. “I am so sorry. I fell asleep. I didn’t set my alarm. I didn’t mean to fall asleep…”

Tak Young Jun replied in a eerily calm and steady voice, “You disappeared yesterday. You disappeared today. Tell me, right now, where you are and I will send the van. You will go to the company and explain to the members, and your vocal coaches, what it is that now has a higher priority in your life than them.”

“You don’t have to send a car. I can take a cab… I will get a cab and go straight…”

“Tell. Me. Now.” Tak Young Jun stopped Chanyeol from continuing.

“I am at Ji Seok’s… I mean ₩uNo’s studio. I was watching him work and fell asleep.” Chanyeol was pacing the room as he gave his manager the address and continued to apologize. Ji Seok watched him walk in circles around the room, leaning against the console with his arms crossed over his chest. When Chanyeol hung up the phone, he fell onto the couch, his face buried in his hands.

“Shit,” he sighed.

“I’m sorry, kid. This sucks. It’s my fault,” Ji Seok said as he dropped his hands to his sides. “You wanted to take off, and I made you hang back. Do you need me to get you a cab? Need me to talk to hyung? I’ll take the blame.” He watched Chanyeol closely from his position across the room.

“No. No, they’re sending someone for me. And it’s really my fault, my problem. You don’t need to take the blame for anything. I’m the one that got distracted. I’ll sort it out.” He rubbed his eyes with his palms and stood up, making to leave the studio, planning to wait in front of the building for the van. “Thank you. Thank you so much for this. It was great to see you work again. Inspiring. I had a great time.”

“You know, you can come back. Any time. Whenever you want. I would like you to come back. Just, you know, shoot me a text.” Ji Seok looked at Chanyeol from across the space, Chanyeol looked back at him. “Don’t disappear. Come back.”

“I’ll sort it out,” Chanyeol said and turned to leave through the short hallway, through the wide open room, and out the double doors.

_________________________________________________________________

Chanyeol made it to the the SM building just before noon, four hours after he was supposed to be there. The members were gathered in a music room with their multiple vocal coaches, wrapping up a work session. He hesitated at the door, hand over the knob and worked up the courage to step into the room and apologize. They had been a group for a long time, they had been training together even longer. Missing a practice, missing a schedule, was almost unheard of.

All eyes turned to him as he entered the room and he bowed deeply, first to the coaches and then to the members. He stood, hands wringing together, “I am so sorry. It won’t happen again.”

The group leader, Suho, stood from his chair, “No, it won’t happen again. Where were you? We were so worried. Kyung Soo didn’t know. Tak Young Jun didn’t know. You just vanished.”

“I went out to watch some underground rappers lay down a track at a studio last night. I was stupid. It was late. I fell asleep.”

“You went to a random studio in the middle of the night and fell asleep? Jesus, Chanyeol, that _is_ stupid. What the hell? That isn’t like you at all,” Kyung Soo shot from his spot near the back of the room.

“It wasn’t random. I was invited. It was Ji… ₩uNo’s studio. You know, Zico’s brother. We did that song last week, and he asked if I wanted to check out his studio. It was fine. Zico was there too. I just… lost track of time.”

“Don’t let it happen again,” Suho said in a matter-of-fact tone. “And don’t disappear.” Chanyeol flinched a little as he recognized the words, Ji Seok had said the same thing just an hour ago.

“I won’t. I won’t take off again. I’ll make sure to let someone know when I’m going out. I’ll keep track of time. It won’t happen again.” He could feel the members accepting his apology, he could sense the mood in the room lifting, and he took a chance, “But, guys, you should have seen it. I don’t think ₩uNo was very excited by the song, but it was inspiring to watch everyone work. There was just so much feeling to it all, so much freedom. It made me want to write. Made me want to record. I feel great, like maybe we’re ready to put some more of our own stuff on our next album. At least give it a shot. I know some of you have been working on side stuff...maybe we could take a look.”

Lay sat back in his seat and nodded, “I’ve been working on some stuff. It’d be great to really put in some more effort, get it out there.”

“I’d be up for it,” Baekhyun chimed in. “I’ve been thinking about trying my hand at some writing. I have ideas. _huge_ ideas…”

Chanyeol smiled at the room. This could be great. This might be what they need to get back some of that energy they’ve been missing.

_________________________________________________________________

It was late when Chanyeol made it back to the dorm. After making his apologies, the group had moved on to dance practice then spent some time on solo projects before meeting back up at the gym with their trainer. The rest of the members had been released after dinner to go back to the dorm, but Chanyeol had been held back to work with the vocal coaches, making up for what he had missed in the morning. It hadn’t been a bad day. But it had been a long day.

Chanyeol slipped his sneakers off in the entryway to the dorm and dropped his bag onto the floor before making his way to the kitchen. He was starving and knew that there would at least be some ramyun in the cupboards. As he was running water into the pot, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, indicating he had received a text.

 

 **Ji Seok**  
You OK?  
Everything Cool?

 

 **Chanyeol**  
All good.  
I’m forgiven.

 

 **Ji Seok  
** You grounded?

 

 **Chanyeol**  
I’m not a child.  
I don’t get grounded.

 

 **Ji Seok  
** Right…

 

 **Ji Seok  
** Seriously though, I can talk to hyung.

 

 **Chanyeol**  
No. Don’t. It’s cool.  
All forgiven.  
I can’t just take off anymore, but it’s cool.

 

 **Chanyeol**  
Thanks again though.  
It was awesome.  
Gave me some ideas.  
I want to come again sometime.

 

 **Ji Seok**  
Is thanks the new sorry?  
How the fuck do you write music when you only know like two words?

 

 **Ji Seok**  
And like I said, any time.  
I’ll be waiting to hear from you.

 

“What are you all smiley about?” Kyung Soo walked into the kitchen, hair wet and spikey from a shower.

“Nothing really. Just texting with a friend.” Chanyeol pushed his phone back into his pocket and finished filling the pot with water. “You want some ramyun? I’m just putting the water on.”

“Nah, starting to film tomorrow. My face can’t be swollen.” Kyung Soo watched his friend turn on the stove, gently place the noodles in the pot, and set out his chopsticks. “What friend? Was it that ₩uNo guy?” he asked after a pause.

“What? Yeah, ₩uNo. His name is Ji Seok. It was him. He was just checking to make sure I wasn’t in too much trouble. He felt bad. I told him that it’s cool.”

“Is it?” Kyung Soo cocked his head to the side. “Is it cool? It’s great that you’re feeling so inspired by this guy, but you just took off. Twice. We were pretty worried. I just want to make sure that you’re ok. This doesn’t seem like you.”

Chanyeol looked up at his worried friend, “There’s nothing wrong. Nothing to be worried about. I mean, I think I’ve been in a rut lately, but I feel like the last week or so has been good for me, kind of pushed me out of it a little. I’m feeling good. No worries.”

Kyung Soo stood up taller and smiled, “Then I approve. You’ve seemed down for months. You smiled all day today, like I haven’t seen you do in a long time. Just, be careful. Don’t go fucking shit up because you found a shiny, new friend.”

“Don’t be jealous, Kyung Soo, you’re still my very favorite.” Chanyeol’s smile spread across his face and he waggled his eyebrows. He really did feel great.

 


	7. Confessions and Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alone time might be hard to come by, but....they find it.

The last couple of weeks had been a lot like old times for Chanyeol, at least as far as things with EXO were concerned. The members were as busy as ever as they promoted a comeback single. They were constantly making appearances on — and winning — music programs, participating on variety shows, doing radio interviews, and performing on stage. When they weren’t doing promotions, they were at the company practicing choreography or working on new music. But it was good. It was a lot like the period of time after their debut… or, more accurately, after their first comeback. They knew what to expect, they were comfortable in the routine of it all, but they were also energized and excited like they hadn’t been in a long time.

Chanyeol, Lay, and Baekhyun had been given permission to write and produce a song to _potentially_ be included on the next full-length album. It wasn’t a guarantee, but it was more latitude than they had been afforded in the past, and they were each taking this opportunity seriously. Chanyeol could often be found working late into the night in one of the small work rooms or one of the recording studios at the SM building. It felt like they were on the cusp of something great.

So often, though, the highpoint of each day for Chanyeol was when he had the opportunity to check his phone and find a message… or two… or three from Ji Seok. The messages were mostly brief updates on things he was working on in the studio, sound clips of new songs, or checking in on Chanyeol to make sure that he was getting sleep, eating, taking care of himself. Chanyeol had managed to get away from SM a handful of times over the last few weeks for an early morning coffee in Insadong with Ji Seok, to grab a quick meal with the man at a place near the SM building, and twice to go to the studio to watch him work. Each time he took off, he made sure to tell Suho, Kyung Soo, or Tak Young Jun where he would be. He made sure to be back at the company or in the dorm at exactly the agreed upon time. He made sure to not cause any problems.

 

**Woo Ji Seok  
** You asleep?

 

**Chanyeol  
** Nah. Working.

 

**Woo Ji Seok**  
You should be asleep.   
It’s midnight… didn’t you do that thing today?  
Don’t you have that other thing tomorrow?

 

**Chanyeol  
** You have no idea what those things are, do you?

 

**Woo Ji Seok**  
Whatever.  
I know you have things.  
Who the hell can keep track of that shit?

 

**Woo Ji Seok  
** Did they feed you?

 

**Chanyeol**  
I ate.  
I would kill for a coffee though.  
As big as my head.

 

**Woo Ji Seok  
** Fuck, that’s a huge coffee.

 

**Chanyeol  
** Fuck you.

 

**Woo Ji Seok**  
That an invitation?   
…Turn around.

 

Chanyeol spun in his chair, looking around the tiny work space he was currently occupying and found himself alone. He stood up and flung open the door to a completely empty and dimmed hallway. It was 12:17 in the morning. There was no one else around.

He heard his phone vibrate again, indicating that another text had arrived.

 

**Woo Ji Seok  
** You fucking looked didn’t you…

 

**Woo Ji Seok**  
Come downstairs and let me in  
I thought you might want some coffee…   
and maybe some company.   
North side of the building.

 

Chanyeol stared down at his phone, unsure if this was another joke or if his friend was really waiting for him downstairs. He really wanted him to be downstairs. It had been just a few weeks since they had started hanging, out and he had grown used to texting the other man throughout the day, sharing his successes, and talking through small, daily challenges. Trying to fit in some face-to-face time. Chanyeol felt butterflies in his stomach at the idea that Ji Seok might be downstairs. Might have wanted to see him. Might have sought him out.

 

**Woo Ji Seok**  
Don’t be a dick.  
It’s cold.  
Come let me in so I can actually hear the tracks you’ve been whining about for two weeks.

 

Pushing his phone into his back pocket, Chanyeol took off at a trot through the SM building, foregoing the elevator because it always took too long to arrive at whichever floor you were on when you were in a hurry. It was like the damn thing _knew_ when you were in a rush.

When he reached the ground floor, Chanyeol paused for a moment, catching his breath, before pushing open the doorway leading into the lobby. He ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it back off his face, adjusted his glasses to ensure they weren’t crooked, pulled down his t-shirt by the hem, and smoothed down his cargo pants. He wasn’t exactly sure why he cared what he looked like, but he did. He would have to think about this later, but for now, in the middle of the night in a huge mostly empty building with Ji Seok waiting just outside, he was going to just go with it.

He forced out a heavy breath and pushed open the door.

Ji Seok was there. He was waiting just outside of the glass doors, two huge to-go cups of coffee in a tray he held with one hand, other hand tucked into his pocket, hood pulled up over his head to keep his ears warm. His cheeks and the tip of his nose were pink with cold. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet to keep warm. Chanyeol moved across the lobby and pushed open the door to let him into the warm building. As Ji Seok took the first step to come in, Chanyeol grabbed at his arm and pulled him in and let the door slam closed.

“Why the hell is it so cold out there? It’s not even really winter yet… and you should wear a warmer coat if you’re going to go out at night,” Chanyeol tutted like a mother hen, waving his hands in a distressed fluttering motion around the other man’s head and shoulders.

Ji Seok laughed, “Calm down, mom, you’re going to make me spill the coffee.”

“First I’m a kid, and now I’m your mom. Make up your mind,” Chanyeol huffed.

“I’m actually quite glad that you are neither of those two, if I am being completely honest.”

Chanyeol cocked his head to the side, forehead scrunched in almost understanding. “Me too. I mean… I certainly wouldn’t want to be your mom.”

“Yeah, and it would be creepy if you were a kid. It would be really fucking creepy if you were a kid.”

Chanyeol took the coffee tray from Ji Seok and led him through the lobby, waiving at the night security guard posted at the large desk near the elevators. He took him up to the fourth floor and directed him to the workroom he had been using for the last several hours. He was eager to show him the tracks he had been working on, to get his feedback, to share the small space with him. He pulled the laptop between them and began talking through his thought process and playing pieces of the songs.

Almost two hours later their coffee cups sat empty on the table. They had reviewed all of the work Chanyeol had done to this point and made considerable progress on both songs. He felt good, really good. Chanyeol stretched his long arms up into the air and tipped his head to the left and then the right, releasing the tension that had settled in his neck and shoulders after hours of staring at the computer. When he brought his arms back down and looked at Ji Seok, the other man was openly staring at him.

“Chanyeol, I…” He paused. “Chanyeol, I want to talk to you about something. I want to tell you something, but I’m not really sure how you are going to react, and it kind of scares the shit out of me.” He leaned forward resting his forearms on his lap, looking at his feet, at Chanyeol, and back at his feet, hands gripping each other.

“Then just say it. Whatever it is, just say it. You just spent the last two hours trashing my music, whatever else you have to say could hardly hurt my feelings any more than that…” Chanyeol laughed, but he could see that Ji Seok was struggling with something. He fiddled with the keys on the laptop in front of him.

Ji Seok pulled in a deep breath and sat up. He looked at his hands, now clenched on his thighs. “Chanyeol…”

“Yes, that’s my name. Still.” Chanyeol felt apprehensive, not quite sure where this was going. He fidgeted in his seat.

“Shut the fuck up and let me talk.” Ji Seok shot the other man an annoyed look. “Chanyeol, I think you should know… should know that I like you. I mean, obviously, I like working with you and hanging out with you… But I want to be honest with you that I also just really like you. You should know that. I don’t want to create any problems for you or anything, but I also don’t want to lie to you. So, yeah. That’s it. That’s what I wanted to say. You really, really don’t have to say anything right now. Shit, this is awkward. I swear to god I am better at this. What the fuck is my problem right now…” Ji Seok looked away, anywhere but at Chanyeol. He rubbed his eyes and adjusted the snapback sitting backwards on his head.

“Um… Woah…” Chanyeol didn’t know where to look. He didn’t know where to put his hands. His insides were on fire. From the moment they had met, he had felt such a pull to Ji Seok. When they were together, he couldn’t look away, when they were apart, he just wanted to be around him. He had reveled in the feelings, the anticipation of seeing him, the excitement of getting the stupidest text from him, the pleasure he got from just being in the same space. But he hadn’t yet really sifted through all of these emotions; he hadn’t thought through what it had meant. It all came rushing in on him. He knew. He knew that he felt the same way about Ji Seok. He just wasn’t sure that he should.

“Yeah, so, like I said, you don’t have to say anything. It’s just…” Ji Seok stood, moving toward the door, head down, eyes averted.

Chanyeol’s heart clenched at the sight. Fuck. “Don’t. Don’t leave. Don’t go. Just give me a minute. You might be good at this, but I’m terrible. I have been a trainee or a fucking idol for my whole post-pubescent life. I have never done this shit before.”

Ji Seok stopped, hand on the doorknob, and looked back at Chanyeol. He waited, holding his breath.

“So, just to be clear, you just confessed. Right?” Chanyeol was looking at the table, away from Ji Seok. He didn’t wait for an answer. “So this,” he said, turning to look at the other man, gesturing at the space between them, “this could be something more? More than just getting together at two in the morning to work on a song? More than coffee when we can fit it in? You would be willing to put up with my schedule, with my… restrictions, so it could be something more?”

Ji Seok’s hand dropped from the knob. He took a step toward Chanyeol. He took a second step. A third. He was now standing directly in front of him, hands hanging at his sides. He looked closely at the man seated in front of him, his expression almost pained. He raised his hands up, brushing Chanyeol’s hair out of his face, cupping his cheeks. He leaned in, slowly, giving the other man the chance to pull away, to escape. He pressed his lips to Chanyeol’s mouth, gently at first, expecting the other to jerk away. When it didn’t happen, when the Chanyeol began to kiss him back, he dropped his thumbs to run across the other man’s jaw and cup the back of his neck with his fingers, weaving them through his hair.

When they pulled apart, breathless, Chanyeol brought his fingers up to his own lips and pressed them there for a moment. “So, yeah, I guess that was a yes? This could be more…”

Ji Seok grabbed him again — this time by the shoulders — pulling him up to stand in front of him, hands sliding down Chanyeol’s arms, touching the bare skin below his short t-shirt sleeves.  “Is this ok? Is it too much? I know this is a huge risk for you. I don’t even know how you feel. I don’t even know if _you_ know how you feel, but if you feel the same, this is a huge risk.”

“It is. A risk. But… but this is worth it.”

_________________________________________________________________

Ji Seok left the studio shortly after the confession… after the kiss. Chanyeol cleaned up the workroom, threw away crumpled pieces of paper and coffee cups, and stowed the laptop and headphones in his bag to bring with him back to the dorm. He kept smiling to himself, touching his lips. It hadn’t been his first kiss, it hadn’t even been his first kiss with another man, but it had been his first kiss in years and the first that had felt important. It felt loaded and heady like it had changed things — more than just his relationship with Ji Seok. Chanyeol sat heavily onto the chair and shook his head as if to wake himself from a dream. What the hell was he thinking?

After Ji Seok had revealed his feelings, it had become clear to Chanyeol that he had been feeling the same way since, well, since that night in the SM studio. He had found Ji Seok magnetic. Chanyeol’s life was so full of music, of promotions, of training, of all of the side projects like modeling, acting, variety, but he had found himself making room for Ji Seok almost as soon as they had met. He had carved out moments to read and re-read texts, to grab coffee, to talk through ideas on the phone, to just connect with him. He wanted to make more moments, bigger moments. But already some of the time they had spent together had put his good standing with SM and his career at risk. Doing more, moving forward, would be an even greater threat.

Chanyeol grabbed his bag and coat and walked through the freezing city back to his dorm, vacillating between being ecstatic that the man he wanted to be with felt the same way and calling Ji Seok to put a stop to it all because the risk to his career, his life, was too great. By the time he made it back to the dorm, Chanyeol only had a couple of hours left to grab some sleep before they had to be back at the company for their scheduled practice. They had a photo shoot the next afternoon — a spread for some magazine — and he knew he needed to get at least a little sleep so he could make it through it all.

By the time he was in his bed, cocooned in blankets, he was back to reliving the kiss, remembering what Ji Seok had felt like against his lips, remembering the man’s hands running through his hair.


	8. Accusations from on High

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SM are bullies, but Ji Seok is so nice.

Chanyeol was exhausted, but it was the giddy kind of exhausted a person felt after a long night of doing something they really wanted to be doing. He had been in the studio with Ji Seok until 2:30 in the morning, working on two separate tracks that he thought might be right for the next EXO album. Ji Seok had liked the basic premise of both but had been critical, pushing Chanyeol to make them better, to push his boundaries and do something interesting with each of them. It had been productive, and it had been fun, and Ji Seok had been by his side. And things had changed. Things had become more. After he had returned to the dorm, after he had  been brought back to reality by the risks they were taking, Chanyeol had fallen asleep holding tightly to the memory of Ji Seok’s confession and of his kiss.

As the members gathered in the dance studio for an early morning run through of the latest choreography, a staff member pulled Chanyeol aside and let him know that Lee Soo Man, the former president of SM Entertainment and his boss, wanted to speak with him.

When he entered the executive office, Lee Soo Man was sitting at his desk speaking on the phone, and he waved Chanyeol over to take a seat on one of the large, plush sofas in the center of the room. Their head manager, Tak Young Jun was also in the room, already seated on one of the couches, waiting for them. Chanyeol had almost never been called to speak with the president, and it felt very much like being sent to the principal’s office. He didn’t know what to expect as he sat there, across from Tak Young Jun, tapping his hands on his knees feeling underdressed in the gym shorts and worn t-shirt he had put on for dance practice.

“Park Chanyeol!” Lee Soo Man said as he hung up the phone and made his way to the couch directly across from where Chanyeol sat. “It’s good to see you, son. With so much going on, I just don’t have the chance to get together with you kids as often as I would like to.” His smile was large and intimidating, his expression giving nothing away.

“Yes sir. I understand, we all do. We know you are always working to help promote us.” Chanyeol wasn’t really sure what he should say, wasn’t sure where he should look.

“I am sure you are wondering why I called you up here today. Besides wanting to see you and make sure you are getting everything you need, I had a couple of things I wanted to address. You are getting everything you need, right?

“Oh. Yes, sir. I am well taken care of.” Chanyeol looked over at Tak Young Jun, questioningly. The manager just looked back at him, smile not quite reaching his eyes.

“Great, good to hear. Very good.” Lee Soo Man leaned back deeper into the couch, looking relaxed. “Well, then, let’s get on with it. I’ve been told that you are putting in all sorts of extra time at the company, writing and recording some of your own songs. That’s good. I like to encourage our artists to learn more about their craft. We hire the best songwriters in the world here, but if you are interested in stretching your boundaries, I think that is a good thing, so long as you aren’t compromising yourself, or the rest of the group, or the company in the process.”

Chanyeol nodded his affirmation.

Lee Soo Man looked at Tak Young Jun as if confirming something and then back at Chanyeol. “I was informed that last night you let a guest into the building and brought him up to the work rooms. I was also told that this guest is a producer from another studio. I would like to reiterate to you that the rules of the building and our security processes, have been put into place for a reason. That reason is to keep our staff and our artists safe and to make sure that what we do in this building stays protected and unheard until we are ready to release it. I would like to make sure that you understand this moving forward and that you do not make this mistake again. Please do not bring… strangers… into this building without receiving proper clearance in advance.”

Chanyeol blinked. Shit. He hadn’t thought it would be a big deal. He hadn’t thought anyone would mind if he had a friend in the studio. He had seen staff bring friends in before. “Sir, I am so sorry. I didn’t realize it would be a problem. He didn’t see anything anyone else was working on, just some stuff I was doing. It won’t happen again. I am really sorry.” Chanyeol stood and bowed deeply to the president.

“Please, sit,” the president said, again gesturing at the couch. “As for the second item, I wanted to touch base with you on the song you recorded with this same producer a few weeks ago. The song was done with an SM artist using SM equipment, so we, of course, own the rights. We have decided that it is not in the best interest of EXO or SM to release it at this time. We will, of course, hang on to the song until we see fit to use it. I just wanted you to be aware of this in case you were wondering what would be happening.”

“What?” Chanyeol was shocked. The song was excellent, and releasing it would really be great for maturing his image, and even better for increasing Ji Seok’s popularity. “I don’t understand. It’s good. It’s…”

Tak Young Jun raised his hand, stopping Chanyeol from finishing his thought. “The decision has been made, Chanyeol. You have been spending quite a bit of time with this Woo Ji Seok, and you have been communicating with him regularly since you met him. You should be aware that people like him are more likely than not trying to use you to gain fame. You need to be careful. I say this because I think of you as family. I want to make sure that you are kept safe.”

“That isn’t the case here, Tak Young Jun. He hasn’t tried to use my name for anything or taken any pictures… you know him… you know he wouldn’t.”

“Well, that isn’t quite true, is it? He posted a clip of the song you recorded on his social media. He followed you on Instagram, you followed him back. People will begin to wonder at the nature of your relationship. We have to put an end to any actions that may cause speculation or may endanger your reputation. We can’t have you interacting publicly with anyone that might use you or SM. Please keep your private matters private or we will be forced to discuss this further.”

“How did you know…”

“Thank you, Chanyeol, for understanding our position. See that nothing like this happens again. You can return to practice now.” And with that, Lee Soo Man ended the conversation.

_________________________________________________________________

Chanyeol stood in the hallway outside the president’s office, stunned. He hadn’t been sure why he had been called upstairs, but his relationship with Ji Seok had not at all entered into his mind. Ji Seok had been completely aboveboard in his dealings with Chanyeol. He had in no way used their friendship, their relationship, to promote his music or his studio. This was bullshit. His company had been spying on him, they wanted to control him.

He clenched his fists. He was angry at how he had been treated, but mostly, he was pissed at the accusations the president and his manager had made against Ji Seok. He knew that Ji Seok was completely unaware of what had just transpired, but he wanted to see him. To touch him. To reassure him that he, Chanyeol, trusted him, believed in him. Wanted him.

He took off, running through the halls of SM, down the stairs, for the second time in just a few short hours, running to Ji Seok.

In the cab on his way to the warehouse district where Ji Seok’s studio was housed, Chanyeol texted Kyung Soo a quick messages claiming that he didn’t feel well, that he needed to go rest for at least a few hours. He would meet them at the photo shoot later that day, prepared to work. He texted Ji Seok to make sure that he would be at the studio when Chanyeol arrived. He seethed.

As Chanyeol repeated over and over the words the SM president had said to him, implying that Ji Seok was using him, that he had compromised EXO and SM by allowing him into the company, he grew more and more upset. He threw cash into the front seat of the cab and was out the door before the car had come to a complete stop. He stormed into the warehouse, not noticing if there was anyone in the front room or not, just blindly making his way back to the recording studio knowing that that was where Ji Seok would be.

Ji Seok was alone in the studio, sitting at a small table pushed to the side of the room hunched over a notebook, colored pencils spread across the surface of the table. He looked up as Chanyeol moved into the room and stood, closing the notebook in front of him. Chanyeol hesitated for a moment in the entryway to the room, chest heaving with the effort to calm down. And then, having made a decision, he moved quickly to Ji Seok, grabbed his face with both hands and pulled him in for a fierce kiss.

Ji Seok pulled away from Chanyeol, grabbing his hands and holding them together, in between them. “Not that I mind the greeting, but what the hell happened?”

“I wasn’t sure that I had made it clear last night, and I wanted to be perfectly clear. I like you too. I like you a lot. This thing, this thing between us, it should be more.”

“Chanyeol, I appreciate the grand gesture here, but it’s 9:30 in the morning. You’re never free at 9:30 in the morning. What happened? Why are you here?”

“It’s been a rough day. I was called upstairs… to talk to my boss… he said… he said they weren’t going to release the song we made. They’re just shelving it. I’m pissed. I thought you should know.” Chanyeol let his hands slide free from Ji Seok’s grip.

“You’re this upset about SM shelving a song? They do it all the time. Just how many songs have you put out there only to have them nod, smile, and put it on a shelf? How many songwriters have you worked with since your debut and how many of their songs have you actually released? What’s this really about?” Ji Seok ran his hands up Chanyeol’s arms, resting his hands on the other man’s shoulders.

“You’re not upset?” Chanyeol took a small step closer.

“I’m not stoked about it, but I didn’t really expect them to release it. I mean, look, you’re huge, but I’m nobody. Sure, I was in a third tier idol group for a few years, and I’ve done some shit since then, but I’m nobody compared to a company like SM. I didn’t expect for the song to go anywhere. Honestly, I just wanted to get to know you better, and I used the best card I had to make it seem legit. Come on, what’s really bothering you?”

“He… he made it sound like you’ve been hanging out with me to get famous. Said I should be careful around people like you. He told me to keep my private life private, and that if I didn’t then he would get involved.”

Ji Seok ran his hand along Chanyeol’s shoulders, up the sides of his neck, drawing him closer and resting their foreheads together. “You didn’t know, huh, that they monitor you that closely? That they know who you’re talking to? Hanging out with? Of course they know. Look, I’m not worried about me. I left that life because I didn’t to want pretend to be someone I’m not. I don’t advertise my relationships, don’t go around letting the world into my personal life, but I also don’t want to hide all of the time. I’m worried about you.” He stood back, lifting his face away from Chanyeol, “If this is too much, you need to tell me. No hard feelings. We end it here. But don’t start something with me if you think you’re just gonna bail because your boss makes a few shitty comments.”

“I’m not worried about me. I’m pissed that he accused you… I want to do this. I just don’t know what it’s supposed to look like. I don’t know what the rules are, how to do this right.” Chanyeol took another step closer to Ji Seok, put his hands on the other man’s hips and tugged gently, pulling them together. “Please, help me figure it out.”

Ji Seok smiled gently and breathed out, “We’ll figure it out,” before pulling Chanyeol in for a long, sweet kiss.

 


	9. Not Quite a Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ji Seok has tattoos and Chanyeol is mighty impressed with that bit of knowledge.
> 
> Zico gives Chanyeol a talking too.

“So, you feel better now? In a better headspace?” Ji Seok asked, looking up from his drawing when he heard Chanyeol stirring on the couch. It was two hours after Chanyeol had burst into the studio. They had spent the first hour rehashing the conversation Chanyeol had gone through with his boss at SM Entertainment and his own manager. It had been less a conversation and more a warning to Chanyeol to watch his step and to not let his personal life impact EXO or the company. After his initial anger and frustration, Chanyeol had allowed himself to be soothed by Ji Seok, resting on the couch, his head in the man’s lap while he ran his fingers through Chanyeol’s hair until he had fallen asleep.

“You left me here?” Chanyeol sat up and thrust his lower lip out at Ji Seok, pouting.

“45 minutes ago. I left you all the way over there on that couch 45 minutes ago. You might be playing hooky, but I have to finish this drawing by tonight, so I couldn’t just pat your fucking hair all morning,” Ji Seok shot back, softening the statement with his customary grin.

“45 minutes? Oh good, I don’t have to be anywhere for another hour. I’m gonna stay here for a bit. That cool? I promise I won’t get in your way. You work on that and I’ll… I’ll just hang out. Quiet as a mouse.” Chanyeol scooched himself down the couch, moving closer to the table where Ji Seok sat with his notebook and pencils.  

“Of course you can stay here. I want you to stay,” Ji seok said, “There’s water and shit in the fridge in the front room if you need anything. Make yourself at home.” He lowered his gaze back to what he had been working on.

Chanyeol stood quietly and made his way to stand behind Ji Seok, peering over his shoulder for a minute, leaning in. “What are you working on anyway? Why do you need to finish a drawing by tonight?”

“Quiet as a mouse, hm...? It’s actually a tattoo. I’m having some work done. A friend of mine has a shop, and he’s shutting it down tonight to do some work for me and some other people. Kind of like a party I guess, but with more needles.”

“You’re getting a tattoo?” Chanyeol asked, with just a little bit of awe in his voice. He had always loved the idea of tattoos, had loved seeing them on other people, but it had never been something he had even considered for himself. It was too outside of his image as an idol.

“Another one, yeah.” Ji Seok shrugged. “I have a couple already. Do you want to see them?”

“Uh, yeah,” Chanyeol said, eyebrows shooting up. “Obviously.”

Ji Seok stood up from his chair, now face-to-face with Chanyeol. “You’re gonna have to give me some space so I can…”

Chanyeol took a step back as Ji Seok unzipped his hoodie and dropped it onto the chair he had just vacated. He grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it up and over his head and wadded the cotton shirt in his hands. He looked up at Chanyeol’s face, his chest and stomach exposed. Chanyeol stared, eyes on the lean, well-muscled man in front of him. He swallowed thickly as he took in the words ‘Fear’ and ‘Courage’ written across the man’s chest in English and an ornate crown below the words centered on his upper abdomen.

“Can I… would it be OK for me to touch them?” Chanyeol asked, still focused on the ink.

“You have no fucking idea just how OK that would be.” Chanyeol looked up, ready to laugh at the response, until he saw Ji Seok’s loaded expression, his hooded eyes. Hand trembling, Chanyeol reached up, hesitating for only a moment, and whispered his fingers across the lettering. Ji Seok shuddered. Chanyeol looked back up at his face. Ji Seok closed his eyes as Chanyeol flattened his palm onto the other man’s chest and brought his other hand up run his fingers across the sensitive skin and lay that palm flat against his body.

“It’s beautiful,” Chanyeol breathed. “What does it mean?”

“A reminder. Just a reminder to myself.” Ji Seok brought his hands up, circling Chanyeol’s wrists. He pulled the other man’s hands down, dragging them lower on his torso and around his waist. He leaned forward and captured Chanyeol’s mouth in an urgent kiss, let go of his hands and grabbed onto Chanyeol’s hips. Chanyeol pressed in, opening his mouth, tasting Ji Seok’s mouth and tongue. He groaned deep in his throat, grabbing tightly to the other man’s sides, fingers digging into the skin.

Ji Seok found the hem of Chanyeol’s shirt and slid his hands underneath, running them up along his sides and across the flat planes of his stomach. He broke the kiss just long enough to pull Chanyeol’s shirt up and over his head, throwing it down behind him onto the couch. He moved in again, resuming the kiss, exploring Chanyeol’s mouth with his tongue and grabbing the hair at the back of his head roughly.

The phone in Chanyeol’s pocket vibrated. He ignored it, pulling Ji Seok in closer, running his fingernails down the man’s back, biting at his lower lip.

The phone buzzed again. And again.

“Fuck,” Chanyeol said, stepping back. “Fuck.” He pulled the phone out of his pocket. He had three new messages from Kyung Soo.

 

**Kyung Soo**

Leaving the company for the shoot now.   
Get your ass there.

 

**Kyung Soo**

You’d better be there.

 

**Kyung Soo**

Fucking respond, asshole.

 

Chanyeol shot back a response before looking back up at Ji Seok.

 

**Chanyeol**

On my way.   
I’ll take a cab. Dick.

 

“I have to go. I _really_ don’t want to go, but I have to go. I can’t be late…” he stuttered out, looking at Ji Seok.

“I know. This thing tonight, it’s a closed thing. Invite only. Not a big deal, just a way to blow off some steam. You can come. If you want. If you’re free. You can come. You’ll know some people there. We don’t have to be all…” he said, gesturing between them, “It shouldn’t be a problem with your company.”

“Aww, you want to see me again. You are so fucking cute,” Chanyeol laughed, grabbing his shirt and slipping it over his head.

“Nevermind. Invite revoked. You suck. Please leave.” Ji Seok spun around, putting his own t-shirt back on and grabbing his hoodie. “Put this on,” he said, turning and handing the hoodie to Chanyeol, “It’s cold out, and you came in that stupid t-shirt.”

“Text me the details for the thing. I’ll come if I can. I want to see you again. Tonight.” Chanyeol smiled, slipping his arms into the sweatshirt. “I’ve never seen someone getting a tattoo. I feel like it will mature me somehow.”

“Get the fuck out!” Ji Seok laughed, shoving Chanyeol through the hallway toward the exit.

_________________________________________________________________

Chanyeol got the text with the details for the get together halfway through the photoshoot, along with the message:

 

**Woo Ji Seok**

I almost didn’t send this because you’ll only end up embarrassing yourself.

 

He had laughed when he saw it and had had to fend off Baekhyun from grabbing his phone to see the joke. He didn’t want to keep the relationship from the other members, he knew that he couldn’t keep it a secret from them if it was going to work, but it was so new, and he wasn’t ready to share it with anyone just yet.

As his cab pulled up to the tattoo parlor, he shot Ji Seok a response to his text, playing along with the joke:

 

**Chanyeol**

You’re right.   
I can’t hack it in your dark and dangerous world of tattoos and rap.   
I’ll just get ice cream instead.

 

**Woo Ji Seok**

Dark and dangerous people like ice cream too.  
We can get ice cream here. Come

 

**Chanyeol**

Tattoos AND ice cream?   
Maybe I CAN do dark and dangerous.

 

He pulled open the door to the well-known tattoo parlor, the closed sign hanging in the window, and made his way through the darkened waiting area to the back room as directed by Ji Seok’s earlier text. The well-lit room was clearly the personal workspace of the owner, and well known artist, Ssab. There was a reclining chair in the far side of the room covered in red vinyl and a long counter running along the wall closest to the chair. The artist himself was sitting on a wheeled stool prepping equipment on a tray, wearing black gloves. His long hair was pulled back in a low ponytail and his ears hung heavy with silver, gauged earrings. He was laughing and talking with several men standing around him gesturing wildly while holding the tattoo gun in his hand.

Chanyeol moved into the room quietly, not quite sure what to expect or where he should go. Ji Seok had said that he would know some of the people coming tonight, but he wasn’t sure who those people would be. He scanned the room, taking in faces, recognizing a few, and looking for Ji Seok. He spotted the man, reclining on the red chair, arm outstretched on the armrest, the inside of his bicep exposed. Chanyeol made to move toward him at the same moment that Ji Seok spotted him in the entrance.

“Chanyeol, you made it!” He smiled broadly, obviously pleased at the arrival. “You sounded serious about that ice cream.”

“You said I could have ice cream here. I was promised treats.” Chanyeol moved toward him, forgetting momentarily about the other people in the room.   

“Beer’s in the fridge,” said a familiar voice beside him. “That should be a pretty big treat for you, right? You don’t get out much these days, seems SM is keeping you pretty busy.” Zico was there, standing next to him, shirt off with what looked like plastic wrap taped over a portion of his back, covering what appeared to be a fresh tattoo.

Chanyeol raised his eyebrows and smiled at the other idol. “Hello! Great to see you again! Yeah, it’s been busy. You know how it is… but I get out some.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard.” Zico’s smile a little tight around the corners. “You know Mino, right? And KittiB?” he said, gesturing to two people standing on his other side.

“I do! Good to see you both. Ji Seok invited me, but I wasn’t sure who would be here.” Chanyeol waved at the two.

“Ji Seok?” KittiB questioned. “₩uNo? You guys are close?” The tiny woman raised her eyebrows and looked between the two men.

Chanyeol looked over at Ji Seok, “Well, um… yeah…”

Ji Seok cut in, “Yeah, we recorded a track awhile back and he just kept calling me… He was cute, so I kept him around.”

KittiB smiled, “That makes sense. It’s the ears, right?” She reached up to pat Chanyeol’s head affectionately. “They’re so damned cute. Do we get to hear the track?”

“Nah, SM’s got it. I’m thinking the chances of it seeing the light of day are pretty slim.” Ji Seok shrugged with one shoulder. “But we had a good time. We’ll do other stuff. I have faith.”

Zico leaned in next to Chanyeol. “Those jokers over there are Sims, Scotch VIP, and Roydo,” he said, pointing out the three men standing nearest the tattoo artist. They waved in turn. “They’re all in a rap crew with Mino, KittiB, and Ji Seok. They’ve been doing stuff for a while, before Mino got all famous and shit.”

“Fucking sellout,” the one called Roydo called out, laughing at his friend.

“It’s cool. I get paid,” Mino shot back. They were all laughing, clearly comfortable with each other, close friends. Chanyeol smiled at the exchange. He had been so entrenched in being a trainee with SM and then spending all of his time with the members of EXO that he had lost touch with most of his childhood friends. He didn’t really have these kinds of relationships anymore and it was nice to see it up close again. It made him happy to know that Ji Seok had this in his life.

“Are you ready, ₩uNo?” Ssab asked, pressing the button on his gun, making the whining vibration to get their attention.

“Ready,” Ji Seok said back to the artist before shouting to his brother. “Yah, Ji Ho, grab me a beer. This is gonna take awhile.”

Zico went to the fridge and got his brother the drink, popping open the top and putting it in his free hand. Chanyeol moved closer so he could see the artist at work. As the needle touched tender skin on the inside of Ji Seok’s arm, he flinched and took a deep pull from his beer. As the process continued he seemed to grow accustomed to the pain and began a conversation with the three men standing around the chair, leaving the artist to concentrate on the image taking shape on his skin.

Chanyeol watched closely, eyes moving back and forth between the tattoo gun, the artist, and Ji Seok’s face, fascinated. He had had countless fake tattoos drawn on his skin as part of multiple concepts for past songs and videos, but he had never seen a real tattoo being done. His fingers danced at his sides a little, wanting to experience it and not just watch.

Chanyeol flinched as he felt a hand grab his elbow. Zico pulled him away from Ji Seok and over to the doorway of the room. “Hey man, I wanted to have a chat.”

“Sure, what’s up? Something going on?” Chanyeol asked, leaning a little so he could keep watching Ji Seok around his brother.

“I don’t know what this thing is that you and hyung are doing, I don’t even know if you know what this thing is, but I am asking you… no, I am telling you, to watch yourself. If you’re fucking around with him, we will have words.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Chanyeol stood straight and focused on Zico. “We… we’ve been hanging out. I’m not doing anything wrong, and I don’t intend to.” Chanyeol was confused, not sure what Zico was getting at, but really not liking the threats.

“I’ve heard the song. I know you guys have met up a few times. He doesn’t show people the coffee shop, that’s his space. He doesn’t tell acquaintances to call him Ji Seok. He’s got his shit together, he’s in a good place, but he’s a lot more sensitive than he looks. Keep that shit in mind.”

“I…” Chanyeol started.

“I don’t really care what you have to say, I just want you to hear what I’m saying. That’s all. You get me?”

“I get you. I hear you.” Chanyeol shifted uncomfortably.

Zico patted his shoulder. “Great. It’s good to be on the same page. Now, get a beer, relax, enjoy yourself.” He spun on his heel and walked back over to Ji Seok, joining the conversation effortlessly, laughing at a joke that Chanyeol didn’t hear.

Chanyeol leaned back against the wall, bracing himself for a moment, absorbing what Zico had said. He wasn’t sure what the other idol knew about their relationship, and he didn’t feel like it had been his place to reveal anything to Ji Seok’s brother, but it was clear that he could see that something was going on between them.

“Chanyeol, get over here! You wanted to see someone getting a tattoo, and you’re missing it,” Ji Seok shouted, “and grab me another beer on your way. It helps with the pain.”

Chanyeol went to the fridge and got the beer. He brought it to Ji Seok, handed it over, and stepped back out of the circle of friends.

“Something wrong, Chanyeol?” Ji Seok asked trying to lean around and get a look at him.

“Nah.” Chanyeol smiled at him. “I’m good. Just a bit stuffy in here. I’m gonna step outside and get some air. No worries. It was a long day, and I think I’m just more tired than I thought I was.”

“Don’t be long,” Ji Seok said.

Chanyeol looked at him, looked at Zico watching them, and nodded his head. “I won’t. Just need some air.” He walked out of the room and out the front door.

The night was clear, but with all of the lights from the city, Chanyeol couldn’t see a single star in the sky. He looked up anyway, eyes searching. He could see his breathe. He put his hands into his pockets and jumped up and down a couple of times to warm up. This was stupid.  He should just walk back in there and have a good time. Fuck Zico. What did he know? He didn’t know shit… except everything about Ji Seok and exactly what pressure Chanyeol was under as an idol.

Fuck.

It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. Why had he gone to that fucking birthday party?

Chanyeol leaned back against the wall of the building and took three deep breaths, emptying his lungs after each, pushing out the warm air from inside him. He slammed his palms back against the wall and pushed himself upright. He’d go back in and let them know that he had to leave. He’d give Ji Seok an awkward high five or handshake, wave at everyone, and then take off. This was too much right now.

Chanyeol put a smile on his face and re-entered the workroom. Mino clapped him on the shoulder and pulled him over to the group of people around the chair. The tattoo, a heavily shaded lion’s head in blacks and grays, was beginning to take shape on the pale skin of Ji Seok’s arm. The artist was taking a break to rest and have a beer. Ji Seok was stretching his shoulder, stiff from holding the same position for so long. He looked up at Chanyeol as he joined the group, his eyes questioning.

“Better?” he asked.

“A little. I think I’m done… for the night. I’m beat. Early morning again tomorrow. I should head out.” He started to back away from the group, turned to the door.

“Wait,” Ji Seok said, reaching out and grabbing Chanyeol’s hand, interlacing their fingers together, pulling him closer. He tugged Chanyeol down so he could speak softly to him, “Thanks for coming out. I’m not sure what happened, what changed, but you have to tell me. Not now, but you have to.”

Chanyeol smiled, just a little, just the corners of his mouth lifting. “It’s nothing. You don’t have to worry.”

“Chanyeol…”

“I gotta go. Text me a photo when it’s done. I can’t wait to see it.” Chanyeol squeezed the other man’s hand and pulled his fingers away. “Later.”

He didn’t look at anyone else in the room as he walked out.   



	10. It Was Never Gonna Be Easy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chanyeol reaches out to a friend...and then exhibits signs of avoidance.

He hadn’t lied to Ji Seok, he really did have an early morning meeting at the company. They were winding up promotions from the latest release and their managers were reviewing the schedule for the next couple of weeks. However, the members had been given the rest of the day off to recuperate from their strenuous schedule. By ten in the morning, they were free to spend the rest of the day in whatever manner they chose — so long as it was befitting of an idol, of course.

Chanyeol grabbed Kyung Soo's arm as he made his way to exit the SM building, presumably to go back to the dorm and work on his lines for the scenes he would be filming that night. “Kyung Soo, hey, can we grab a coffee? Maybe talk a bit?”

“Thought for sure you’d be running off with your new best friend. Trouble in paradise?” Kyung Soo said, shaking off Chanyeol’s grip.

“What? Best friend? No, you will always be my number one. You know that, right?” Chanyeol looked at Kyung Soo and leaned down so their faces were only inches apart. “You do know that, right?”

“Whatever, dick, of course I know that. But I’m not sure that _you_ know it.” Kyung Soo shoved Chanyeol on the shoulder, knocking him off balance, causing him to stumble back. “You’re buying the coffee. And I want a _huge_ coffee. And a cookie. And to make it better, I’m not even going to eat the cookie. I just want you to buy it, and I’m going to smell it and then throw it away.”

“Whatever you need, best friend, whatever makes you happy.” Chanyeol grabbed Kyung Soo’s elbow again and pulled him through the door.

They went to a small coffee shop not far from the SM building. It was tucked in a small side street that didn’t see much foot traffic and was rarely busy, most of the clientele being music industry staff, trainees, and idols. They grabbed a table in the far back of the room, a quiet nook where they could sit, largely unnoticed, and speak quietly without being overheard. It was their spot. Chanyeol sighed as they settled in, reveling in the familiarity.

As promised, Kyung Soo ordered a large chocolate chocolate chip cookie. He set it between them on the table, delicately placed on a plate. He waved his hand over the cookie bringing the smell up to his face so he could fully enjoy it. “My god, this place makes the best cookies,” he breathed out.

Chanyeol reached for the cookie to break off a small bite. Kyung Soo swatted his hand away, “No fucking way. This is my cookie,” he said, eyebrows lowering into a menacing glare.

“You’re not even going to eat it,” Chanyeol whined. “One bite?” He raised his index finger up, next to his cheek and pouted.

“Nope. Not one.” Kyung Soo was not swayed by Chanyeol in the least. “Now, are you gonna tell me why you’ve ditched me for the last month or are you just gonna sit there and beg like the brat you are?”

Chanyeol exhaled. He took a sip of his coffee and carefully set the mug back on the table. He fidgeted a little in his seat, straightening the seams of his pants, tugging down his sleeves so they covered his wrists better.

“Chanyeol, talk to me. You know you can talk to me.” Kyung Soo broke off a bite from the cookie and held it out to Chanyeol. “You start talking, you can have this bite.”

“I don’t need the cookie. I know that I can talk to you. I’m just not entirely sure where to start.” Chanyeol looked at his friend, read his features, understood that Kyung Soo was worried about him. “Ok, here’s the thing. I’m kind of seeing someone. Not kind of. I _am_ seeing someone.”

“Um, yeah, I figured as much. You smile at your phone all day, you disappear every chance you get, and you haven’t said two words to me about anything outside of choreo for weeks. You haven’t said a word, but you’re easy as hell to read. So, what’s the deal? Tell me about her.” Kyung Soo looked at Chanyeol, watched his face fall, just a little. “Or him.”

Chanyeol’s head shot up so he could look directly into Kyung Soo’s eye, to gauge his reaction. He whispered,  “Him.” He waited.

“Oh. Yeah. I can see how that complicates things even more than they already are. Shit. So, tell me about him.” He rested his chin on his hand, elbow on the table, and watched his friend thoughtfully.

“I met him in the studio. At SM. Well, I guess I actually met him at Zico’s birthday party, but I was kinda drunk, and I didn’t really get to know him or anything then. I thought he was annoyed with me, but I guess it was more like he was feeling me out, you know? Anyway, we really got to know each other in the studio. It was everything I told you about before, the freedom to play around, working through what we wanted the song to be and not just doing what the company wanted. It was great.”

“So it’s this ₩uNo guy? Zico’s hyung?”

“Yeah, Ji Seok. It just kind of became more after that. The more time we spent together, the more I wanted to be with him, and I guess he felt the same way. It’s complicated though. I think Tak Young Jun and Lee Soo Man kind of suspect something. They pulled me in, told me that I needed to watch my step. Accused Ji Seok of using our friendship to get famous. It was all bullshit.” Now that he had started talking, Chanyeol couldn’t seem to stop. He felt like he had to unload everything, to tell someone before he exploded. Normally he was the type of person to talk everything through with someone but he had been keeping this to himself for weeks. “And last night… Last night Ji Seok invited me to a thing, a kind of party thing. Zico was there and he basically warned me that if I was fucking around with his brother he’d kick my ass… or do something. I don’t know what.”

“So, you decided to go and get yourself mixed up in a relationship at the worst possible time, with like, the worst possible boyfriend. Awesome. Sounds like you.” Kyung Soo sat back, picked up his coffee, and took a drink. “What are you going to do about it? You can’t go public, that’s for damn sure. You gonna just sneak around? If anyone finds out, you will be fucking yourself over, you will be fucking us over, and you will definitely be fucking him over.”

Chanyeol dropped his forehead to the table, rattling the cups. “I know,” he mumbled. “Fuck me.”

“I’m not into guys, but it sounds like you found someone else to fuck you.” Kyung Soo laughed, looking into his coffee cup. “Look, I don’t have any sage advice or words of wisdom. I’ve never been through this, and I don’t know anyone who has, but I’m here for you. You can talk to me. But I need you to remember that I am also part of this. All the members are. Whatever you do here is going to affect all of us and not necessarily in a good way. Probably not in a good way. I want you to be happy, but I also want you to be realistic.”

“Yeah,” Chanyeol said, face still pressed into the table. He whimpered, raised back up to a seated position. “This just sucks. I really like him. I mean, really. This could be something huge for me but…”

“I think you should talk to Suho. He’s the leader. He needs to know if something is going to happen that could affect the group. I’m not saying that you have to tell him today, but you have to tell him soon. If you don’t, I will. I’m sorry, but I have to.” Kyung Soo sighed. He grabbed Chanyeol’s hand on the table and gave it a squeeze.

“Ok, I understand. I’ll talk to him… just…” Chanyeol looked at their hands resting on the table. “Just give me a few days to figure stuff out.”

_________________________________________________________________

Chanyeol spent the rest of the day in the studio at SM. He had turned his phone off and tucked it into his bag, doing everything in his power to not think about it, to not grab it and call or text Ji Seok. He put more work than was necessary into the songs he was producing for consideration for the new album, fine-tuning the music, and reworking one of the choruses. They were good, really good, but he wanted them to be perfect.

He packed his bag and headed back to the dorm after 9 p.m., knowing that Kyung Soo would have left for the movie set. He wasn’t avoiding him per se, but he just wanted to be alone. He needed to think through things, to come to some of his own conclusions. He knew that he should talk with Ji Seok, to really hash out his feelings and his concerns, but he didn’t want to be a burden to him either. He didn’t want the other man to find out just how conflicted Chanyeol was, because his confusion had nothing to do with his feelings for Ji Seok. They were rooted more in his career and the future of his fellow EXO members.

He sat on his bed, listening to music through headphones, trying desperately to think through things logically. He knew that being in a relationship at all was a terrible idea for an idol. With time, it could work, he had seen fans accept idols dating, but it was never easy on either of the pair. But this, this was worse, he would be an idol in a same sex relationship. He knew that would ruin him. He knew that it would ruin Ji Seok, and no matter how much the man said that he didn’t want to pretend to be something he wasn’t, Chanyeol knew that his career in music was too important to him to risk it for a relationship with an idol.

Chanyeol groaned, letting his head fall back against the headboard of his bed. He squeezed his eyes shut. He knew all of this. He knew it was a terrible idea. They should break up. He should break up with Ji Seok and tell him to never contact him again. But he couldn’t. The very thought of not seeing Ji Seok again made him ache, made his stomach hurt, brought tears to his eyes. Fuck.

He checked the messages on his phone, knowing that he needed to get any updates on tomorrow’s schedule and knowing that there would be texts from Ji Seok. Five. Five texts from Ji Seok.

 

**Woo Ji Seok**

Here’s the picture of the final product.   
He does great work… if you ever want one.   
(photo attached)

 

**Woo Ji Seok**

What, no compliments?   
You don’t like it?

 

And two hours later:

 

**Woo Ji Seok**

Busy day?   
You free at all?   
Can we grab coffee?

 

Another hour later:

 

**Woo Ji Seok**

You ok?

 

and finally, just an hour ago:

 

**Woo Ji Seok**

You ok?   
Do you need me to come find you?

 

Chanyeol wasn’t sure how to respond to the messages, so he didn’t. He turned the volume up on the music and lay down on the bed, rolling to his left side. He pulled his knees up to his stomach and squeezed his eyes shut. Fuck. Why did this have to hurt so damned much?

_________________________________________________________________

As promised, Ji Seok found Chanyeol.

Chanyeol woke early, still exhausted after getting only a couple of hours of sleep. All he wanted was the escape of sleep, but he couldn’t quite manage to hang on to it though it had never been a problem for him before. He wasn’t like Kyung Soo, sleep had never been an issue. But here he was, 5 in the morning, two hours before he needed to be awake, dressed in joggers and a hoodie, mask and hat in place, making his way back to SM to get some time in at the gym before the members were scheduled to meet with their vocal coaches at 10. He didn’t usually like the gym that much, but he figured he could fill the time, use up some energy, maybe help him sleep later that day.

He made it as far as the street in front of the dorm when he saw a cab pulling up in front of the building. He saw Ji Seok getting out of the back, two large coffees in a tray in one hand, a bag of pastries in the other. Ji Seok turned and saw Chanyeol, standing there with a gym bag slung over his shoulder.

“I was hoping you’d be awake,” Ji Seok said, awkwardly balancing the drinks and food as the cab pulled away from the curb.

“It’s really early. Why are you here?” Chanyeol asked, shocked to see the other man.

“Sorry, too early? I just… I couldn’t sleep. Nothing new. I didn’t feel like drawing. Or walking. I just… I wanted to see you. I took a chance.” Ji Seok looked sheepishly at the ground.

“I’m glad you did. I’m so glad you came.” Chanyeol rushed Ji Seok, dropping his bag on the sidewalk and grabbing the man around the middle in a tight hug. Ji Seok held his arms high, saving the food and drinks from dropping to the ground. “Well shit, with a greeting like this, I should have come every day!”

Chanyeol pulled back, laughing, swallowing the turmoil from yesterday and pushing down his emotions. “If I’d known this was an option, I would have demanded it sooner. Coffee right to my door? Delivered by a hot guy?” He didn’t let go of Ji Seok.

Ji Seok returned the laugh. “Ask and you shall receive. Now, should we go in your dorm, or is there somewhere else you need to be?”

“Not in the dorm. And no, I don’t have to be anywhere until 10. That gives us five hours. Five hours for you to feed me coffee and pastry. Can we go somewhere else? Somewhere where I don’t have to be me for awhile?” Chanyeol asked the last question quietly, hoping that Ji Seok hadn’t quite heard. Hoping he wouldn’t notice.

“Don’t have to be you? But I came here for you… I don’t want to be with someone else.” Ji Seok said, lowering his arms, coffee and bag balanced, for at least the time being. “What’s going on? You didn’t answer my texts yesterday. You OK?’

‘Yeah, I’m OK. Just tired. Tired and overwhelmed. I just don’t want to think for awhile. Is that OK? Is that a thing? Can I just… be with you?” Chanyeol dropped his arms from the embrace, uncertain.

“Oh, babe, of course it’s ok.” Ji Seok looked at him, looked at his full hands, and looked back at Chanyeol. “I want to hug you so bad right now, but this is the best damn coffee you can get in Seoul at this hour…”

Chanyeol laughed again, this time really meaning it. “Babe? So I’ve graduated from kid, to mom, to babe?”

“It’s just something I’m trying out… You are clearly not a kid — a kid wouldn’t know how to do that with his tongue. And no, you are not my mom. I talked to her last night, and she is still safely at home with Dad… So, babe. I’m just trying it out.”

“How’s it working for you?” Chanyeol asked, slinging his gym bag over his shoulder and taking the coffees from Ji Seok’s hand. He popped one of the coffees out of the tray and handed it back to the man to drink. “Start drinking before it gets cold.”

Ji Seok took a swallow of the rapidly cooling liquid. “It’s working—” He seemed to consider it for a moment, trying the term of endearment again to himself. “—for now. We might find something better as we move along. Or not.” He shrugged. “Let’s go to my place. Not the studio, my apartment. It’s small, but it’s private. We can just chill. Watch a movie or something.”

Chanyeol smiled widely. “That sounds… perfect.”

 


	11. Good Times and Not so Good Times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chanyeol and Ji Seok get a bit explicit.
> 
> Sorry Suho, you're a dick in this one.

Ji Seok punched the code into the digital door lock on the apartment door and listened for the telltale beeping noises indicating that it was unlocked before pulling it open. The apartment was in a typical 1990’s high rise apartment complex that could be found almost anywhere in Seoul. There were eight identical buildings, all 20 stories high. Ji Seok’s place was on the eighth floor of building six. He ushered Chanyeol into the room before entering himself, pushing the door closed with his foot. He hadn’t been exaggerating. It was small, containing an entryway for shoes, a small living/dining space, a miniscule kitchen housing a cook top, sink, and mini fridge, and two closed doors, presumably leading to the bathroom and the single bedroom.

The living space held very little furniture — a tiny, worn couch, a scuffed up coffee table, a large flat-screen TV, and a new and expensive looking surround sound system. Chanyeol turned around to look at Ji Seok, amused by the man’s obvious priorities.

“What?” Ji Seok asked, looking up at Chanyeol while he kicked off his shoes. “I said it was private, I never said it was nice.”

“Dude, you barely have a place to sit but you have a 64" TV.” Chanyeol shook his head, laughing.

“I call you ‘babe’ in an epic quest to find just the right nickname, and all you can come up with is ‘dude’?” They moved further into the apartment, setting the pastries and now empty coffee cups on the small counter dividing the kitchen area from the living room. “I’m crushed.”

“I’d say I’m sorry, but I think those words have been stricken from my vocabulary. I’ll try harder… sweet pea?” Chanyeol batted his eyes innocently at Ji Seok, bringing his hands to his cheeks to frame his face in a V.

“Goddamn it.” Ji Seok swatted Chanyeol on the back of his head. “You are impossible… fucking adorable, but impossible. Go sit. Pick a movie or something. I’ll bring the food in.”

Chanyeol walked over to the couch and plopped down, feet jutting out in front of him, arms hanging limply at his sides. He laid his head back to rest on the cushions, closed his eyes, and sighed deeply. Ji Seok plated the pastries and joined Chanyeol in the living room, setting the dish on the coffee table and sitting down on the couch next to Chanyeol, matching his pose. Their sides were pressed together as they squeezed in to share the seat — shoulders, arms, thighs all touching. “I’m gonna need a bigger couch,” Ji Seok breathed out.

“Why, dumpling? I really like this one. It’s a perfect fit,” Chanyeol said, dropping his head onto Ji Seok’s shoulder, snuggling in closer.

“Yah!” Ji Seok shoved Chanyeol off of him playfully, pushing him back onto the arm of the couch so he was half laying, half sitting. Ji Seok leaned over him, arms caging Chanyeol in. “Show some respect. I am not a dumpling… If anything, I’m a sweetheart, or a rosebud, or something like that… not a fucking dumpling.”

“Rice cake?” Chanyeol asked, arms reaching around Ji Seok’s body, pulling him closer, adjusting their bodies so Ji Seok was laying on top of Chanyeol and their faces were only inches apart. His eyes dropped, staring at Ji Seok’s mouth. “Chestnut? Sugar plum?”

“You’re hungry. All of your names are edible,” Ji Seok breathed, pressing himself closer to Chanyeol, rubbing his body along the other man, feeling him shudder.

“I am hungry,” Chanyeol replied, raising his head, bridging the gap between their lips, biting Ji Seok’s bottom lip, pulling back, and then kissing it softly, gently. Ji Seok pushed forward, kissing Chanyeol hard, their mouths opening, tongues dancing. Chanyeol dragged his hands down Ji Seok’s sides, grabbing his hips and pulling him tighter against his body. Ji Seok ground his hips down into Chanyeol, feeling the other man’s body hardening underneath him through the soft, thin fabric of his joggers.

“Fuck, babe, you are so hot.” Ji Seok moved his mouth along Chanyeol’s jaw, bit his ear, and lowered to his arching neck, sucking a line of kisses down its length and back up again to reclaim his lips. Chanyeol groaned deep in his throat, hands slipping under Ji Seok’s shirt.

“Yeah… yeah, I think babe works. You can stick with it,” Chanyeol said, lips still pressed against Ji Seok’s mouth, hands working Ji Seok’s shirt higher up his chest, the loose cotton of the long sleeved t-shirt bunching up between them. “Get this off. Take it off,” Chanyeol panted, pulling back, pecking at Ji Seok’s lips between sentences.

Ji Seok pushed himself upright, knee on the couch between Chanyeol’s legs, thigh pressing into Chanyeol’s groin with just the right amount of pressure. He pulled the shirt over his head exposing his torso and arms, revealing the dark black ink of the fresh tattoo. Chanyeol sucked in a breath. “God, it’s beautiful. It’s perfect. It almost looks like you, all liony and proud.”

“You talk too much,” Ji Seok said, pulling Chanyeol up and removing the other man’s shirt, letting it drop to the floor. He leaned in toward Chanyeol again, pushing him back down to the couch, hands running over his shoulders, his chest, his sides, touching his exposed skin, feeling the muscles rippling underneath as they moved together. He pushed his hand between them, moving lower down Chanyeol’s abdomen, sliding it along the thin line of hair trailing down beneath the elastic of his pants. Ji Seok’s fingers worked their way under the fabric. “Is this OK? Do you need me to stop?”

“Shit. Fuck. No! If you stop… Don’t stop.” Chanyeol pushed on Ji Seok’s chest, creating enough space between them that Ji Seok’s hand could move further down, underneath his pants and into his boxers.

Ji Seok wrapped his hand loosely around the shaft of Chanyeol’s cock, gently sliding it up and and down, letting his thumb swipe across the top to wipe pre-cum across the silky skin. Chanyeol arched his back, eyes closed, lips parted. Chanyeol dug his fingers into Ji Seok’s hips pulling, pushing, not sure what to do with himself as Ji Seok continued to work his hand over his dick.

“Babe, I want you in my mouth. Is that ok? Can I…?” Ji Seok looked up at Chanyeol’s face, his eyes hooded with want. Chanyeol’s pupils were blown as sensation coursed through his body.

“I won’t last long. Yes, it’s OK, but I really won’t last long. You are so fucking…” Chanyeol was at a loss for words, his hips bucked as Ji Seok pumped his cock one more time before letting go to pull Chanyeol up to a seated position. He moved to the floor, kneeling between Chanyeol’s legs and worked the man’s pants and boxers down, kicking them aside. He spread Chanyeol’s legs further apart and circled the fingers of one hand around the base of his shaft, cupping his balls with his other hand. Chanyeol’s head dropped back and he moaned as Ji Seok put his lips around the head of Chanyeol’s cock and worked his way down the shaft, tongue swirling a pattern over and over and over.

Chanyeol ran his fingers through Ji Seok’s hair, gently at first and then gripping it as if it were the only thing keeping him from floating away. He moved his hips in time to Ji Seok’s up and down rhythm, stuttering, faltering. “I’m, I’m gonna…” He curled around Ji Seok, hands loosening from his hair, running down the sides of his head, over his neck, gripping his shoulders as the man swallowed, continuing to stroke the base of Chanyeol’s cock with his hand, pulling him through his orgasm.

Chanyeol paused for a moment, breathing heavily, shaking from the release. Ji Seok looked up at him, right side of his mouth quirking up, lips swollen. Chanyeol cupped his face, bringing him up for deep kiss. He sighed into the other man’s mouth. Ji Seok put his hands on Chanyeol’s thighs, lifting himself up and spinning them both so they lay on the couch again, Chanyeol tucked underneath him.

“It’s your turn,” Chanyeol whispered against his lips, feeling the other man’s heavy erection pressed into his thigh.

“No. This, today, was about you. Something is going on in that head of yours and I wanted… needed to do whatever I could to help you feel bet—” His words cut off in a gasp as Chanyeol slid his hand down Ji Seok’s sweatpants, pumping his cock, once, twice, rubbing the head with his palm and circling around the shaft again. He tensed, eyes slamming shut, as Chanyeol continued the motion while he craned up to bite Ji Seok’s neck and shoulder, sucking a purple bruise onto his pale skin. Despite his protests, Ji Seok had been so close to cumming that it only took a few moments for him to finish, shuddering above Chanyeol before dropping heavily down on top of him.

“Yeah, that was for me, too. I needed to see what you looked like when you cum. I needed that picture in my head to get through the rest of this fucking day,” Chanyeol said thickly, holding Ji Seok close to his chest.

_________________________________________________________________

Hours later, after leaving Ji Seok’s apartment, after the morning meeting at SM with the vocal coaches, after putting in time at the gym, and after giving the audio files for his new songs to Tak Young Jun, Chanyeol sought out Suho. It was time to tell the leader about his relationship, to talk through the risks, to, hopefully, get his OK. Chanyeol didn’t want to think about what he would do if Suho didn’t approve. It wasn’t like the man was his boss, but he was their leader, his opinions and decisions heavily influenced those of the other members. Without his blessing, maintaining a relationship with Ji Seok while maintaining his place with EXO would be nearly impossible.

Suho sat on the couch in the shared living room of the dorm, watching anime on the television while he pretended to fold the mountain of laundry dumped on the table in front of him. “Suho, you got a minute? I have something I want to talk to you about.” Chanyeol sat down next to the leader, putting his feet on the edge of the table.

“Get your feet off my laundry and I’ll consider making some time for you,” Suho said, not taking his eyes off the TV, still holding the same t-shirt he had been gripping since Chanyeol walked into the room.

“It’s kind of important… important to me. Can we shut off the anime?” Chanyeol asked, waving his hand in front of Suho’s eyes to get his attention.

Suho blinked and looked over at Chanyeol. “Yeah, sorry,” he said, smiling sheepishly, pushing the button on the remote to turn off the television. “I am so behind on this show. I was trying to catch up while I did laundry. I get sucked into that shit. What’s up.”

“I’ll start by saying sorry… sorry I’ve been so distracted lately. I don’t want to make excuses, I know I need to be better about separating my personal life from EXO. I know I should be giving 100% to the group. Things have been…” Chanyeol trailed off, looking for the right words. He tapped his knees with his fingers and glanced up at Suho.

“Your personal life? You have a personal life?” Suho’s expression didn’t change, seriously asking the question. “Since when do any of us have the time for a personal life?” He tossed the unfolded shirt back onto the pile.

“I have a personal life,” Chanyeol said, looking down at his hands, “I’ve started seeing someone. It’s getting serious. It is serious. I am serious about this someone.” He looked up at Suho without lifting his head, trying to gauge his reaction. Suho sat still, listening. “It’s someone I met a while ago, did a recording with. Things just kind of happened. We’ve been really careful to not get caught. We’ve kept a really low profile.”

“Who is it? Is she another idol? Does she understand the risks? The pressure you’re under?” Suho asked, studying Chanyeol’s face.

“This person understands. They get it,” Chanyeol said, shifting his eyes back down, squeezing his knees with his hands.

“You’re playing the pronoun game, Chanyeol. You’re being vague. Spill it,” Suho said, not taking his eyes of Chanyeol.

“Him. It’s a him. He used to be an idol. He’s not now. He’s a producer. He knows how risky this is. He knows…” Chanyeol’s face turned pink. It had been so much easier to talk to Kyung Soo. His best friend was so much easier to talk to. He knew Suho wasn’t judging him, but he also knew that Suho’s highest priority was not making sure that Chanyeol was happy, it was making sure that EXO stayed on top, scandal free.

Suho forced out a breath, blowing the hair off his forehead. “Well shit, Chanyeol, that fucking complicates things. How serious is this? Are you asking me for permission? Are you looking for me to tell you it’s OK?”

“I don’t know what I’m doing. This is the first relationship I’ve had in years. The first real relationship I’ve probably ever had. Yeah, it’s pretty serious. I don’t know what I’m looking for from you. I just… I just needed you to know. I need you to be aware, and to… to… I guess I need you to say it’s OK.” Chanyeol let go of his knees and dug the heels of his hands into his eyes.

“Look, personally, I don’t care you who like or who you date. As a friend, I want you to be happy, and if this guy makes you happy, cool. But as the leader of EXO, I can’t tell you this is OK. It isn’t. It is the furthest thing from OK you can get outside of murder. You get caught, you don’t come back from this. We probably don’t come back from this.” Suho stood up, hands raised, palms out. “I’m glad you told me Chanyeol, but I’m sorry that I can’t give you what you’re looking for. I can’t make you break up with someone, but I’m not behind this relationship. It’s not in the best interest of the group. I’m sorry.” Suho swept the pile of laundry into the basket next to the table and hoisted it up to his hip. “I really am sorry,” he said and walked out of the room,

Chanyeol held his head in his hands. He didn’t watch as Suho left the room. He didn’t know what to do.

 


	12. What it is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chanyeol is threatened by the boss and isn't taking it so well.
> 
> Ji Seok hates not being able to help.

This time, as Chanyeol entered into Lee Soo Man’s office, he was not greeted with a friendly wave or called ‘son’. He entered the room, his stomach in knots, knowing that this would not be a positive interaction. Lee Soo Man was seated behind his desk, Tak Young Jun in one of the two chairs arranged in front of it. Chanyeol bowed — a full 90 degrees — before walking all of the way into the room. He looked at the men and sat in the vacant seat next to Youngjun.

“I was really hoping we would not have to hold this meeting, Chanyeol,” Lee Soo Mon started, his elbows resting on the surface of the table, fingertips pressed together in a pyramid. “I thought that I had made it perfectly clear the last time we met that you were to carefully consider what is in your best interest and the interest of EXO before you do anything.” He peered over the wide desk at Chanyeol.

Chanyeol looked at the SM president and over to his manager and back, face tense. “I am considering EXO, I am thinking of SM. I haven’t done anything on social media, I haven’t gone out publicly with anyone other than the members in weeks,” Chanyeol said, addressing both men, beginning to feel panic.

“Yes, that’s true. But you have entered into a relationship that you _know_ could ruin everything. You have willfully chosen your own pleasure, as fleeting as it most likely is, over the wellbeing of the other members and the company that has helped to raise you.” Lee Soo Man pulled his hands apart and pressed them onto the desktop. “You have put the company that has given you everything you have, has made you into everything you are, into clear and obvious danger.”

“How did you…” Chanyeol started, still looking back and forth between the men, bile rising in his throat.

“Did you think your members would prioritize personal matters over the well being of the group and the company? You are a foolish and naive child, Chanyeol. Wake up. This is business and you have compromised our product. This is not something that I will take lightly.”

“Chanyeol,” Tak Young Jun spoke up, “you have a decision to make. Right now. You will either end this relationship with Woo Ji Seok and adhere to the company’s code of conduct, including some additional measures we will put in place for you, or we will terminate your contract with SM and take Ji Seok’s little production company as payment for the lost earnings we will suffer after your departure.”

“Wait… What?” Chanyeol couldn’t breath. He felt his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I… you will ruin Ji Seok if I don’t leave him.” It wasn’t a question.

“Your fans will ruin him if you don’t leave him, we are just trying to minimize the damage to the company should that happen,” Tak Young Jun said, not looking Chanyeol in the face, avoiding his eyes.

“And unless you are truly as selfish as you have been acting these last few weeks, I would suggest you end this… relationship… quickly and move on.” Lee Soo Man sat back in his seat, relaxing, as if his unsavory task was complete and a conclusion had been reached. Of course, it had. Chanyeol didn’t really have much of a choice. He couldn’t hurt his fellow members this way. They had been his life, his family, for so many years. They were so important to him. They had been everything to him… until now. Now Ji Seok was part of that equation. He had become so important, so quickly. Chanyeol could not be the reason he lost everything. He had known all along that being found out would mean losing fans, Ji Seok facing ridicule, probably threats, but now, now it was real. SM had laid out exactly how they would take everything away from the man if he, Chanyeol, didn’t end things with him.  

“I’ll end it. I won’t see Ji Seok anymore. Give me a few days to figure it out. I… I will let Tak Young Jun know when it’s done.” Chanyeol’s voice was dead. His face didn’t show any emotion. He didn’t feel any emotion. His heart slowed down. He just felt cold.

“That is a wise decision, Chanyeol. We will give you until the end of the week — four days — to get this done. It shouldn’t be difficult, it’s not like you have been together long.” Lee Soo Man stood. He reached out to shake Chanyeol’s hand. Chanyeol stood, grabbing his boss’s hand and shaking it up and down. He let go, bowed, and left the room.

_________________________________________________________________

For the next three days, Chanyeol kept himself as busy as he could at SM. He texted Ji Seok quick messages, once in the morning and once in the evening. Nothing messages, saying things like “Busy day, can’t really get away. Hope you have a great one!” and “I’m exhausted, going straight to sleep. Speak with you soon.” It sucked. It was hard. Those stupid messages took too long to compose and longer to actually send. He could feel Ji Seok’s responses getting more worried, probing. He kept things light. He worked himself hard. He didn’t know what to do.

At 9 p.m. the third day Chanyeol left SM, tired and sore from the gym and then sitting for hours in one of the cramped workrooms. He hadn’t accomplished much more than staring at his computer screen, but he had done that with all of the enthusiasm that he could muster. His plan for the evening was to walk to the dorm, eat ramen, shower off the day, text Ji Seok some bullshit about being tired, and then to stare at the ceiling. Again.

He pulled his jacket tighter around himself to ward off the chill of the evening. The cold snap that had settled onto Seoul seemed to be sticking around. It was fine though, the cold made him concentrate on trying to stay warm instead of on his stupid personal problems. He let the door close behind him and made his way through the parking lot to the sidewalk, passing the low decorative wall that surrounded the building. His head was down. He didn’t look around.

The man leaning against the wall stood as he saw the idol exit the building. “Chanyeol.” He called out, raising his hand to catch the idol’s attention. It was Ji Seok. “Chanyeol, I brought you some dinner.” He raised his other hand, it held a white plastic bag, heavy with take out containers of warm food. “I didn’t want to bother you while you were working, so I just waited. That OK? You’ve been so busy, I was afraid you hadn’t been eating right.”

“Fuck, Ji Seok. You gave me a heart attack.” Chanyeol walked over to Ji Seok, wanting to reach out, to grab him in a hug, but he held himself back. “Thanks. Thank you for the food. I ate. I’m good. You keep it.”

“You’re good. That’s good. I’m glad you’re good. I’m not so good.” Ji Seok lowered the bag of food to his side “What the hell happened? I thought things were OK. I thought we were doing this. Is someone giving you a hard time? Is it the company? Did someone say something to you at Ssab’s?”

“What? No. No one gave me a hard time. I had fun at Ssab’s… he was just looking out…” Chanyeol hesitated. “I mean no one said anything. I’m good. It’s just been busy here. I’ve been busy.”

“He was looking out for me…? Who was looking out for me…? What the fuck, Chanyeol?” Ji Seok dropped the bag of food to the ground and stepped directly in front of Chanyeol, grabbing his shoulders.

“It’s nothing. It’s really nothing. I just need more time to think. It’s… It isn’t you. You are so much more than I deserve. I just… I’m just trying to figure shit out. I feel stuck, I can’t see a way to fix this. I’m just this tiny piece of the puzzle, and anything I do right now could fuck everything up for so many people, including you.” Chanyeol stepped back, out of Ji Seok’s reach, curling into himself.

“What the fuck happened to you? What did someone say to you?” Ji Seok stepped forward and grabbed Chanyeol into a hug, pulling him in close, supporting his weight as the man sagged into him. “Holy shit, Chanyeol, you are not OK. Talk to me, babe, What’s going on?

Chanyeol sank into Ji Seok, grabbing his waist with every bit of strength he had left in him. He sucked in a breath and tried to hang on to his tears. “I just need tonight, Ji Seok. Let me have tonight. I’ll come and see you tomorrow. In the studio… your studio. I can’t do this now.” His voice trailed off, the last few words almost unintelligible.

“Were you just going to disappear if I hadn’t come here tonight?” Ji Seok asked the question in a tight, knowing voice, his grip on Chanyeol loosening.

“No! No, I… I was going to come and see you. I just need to figure something out. I can’t think straight when I’m with you. It’s not just my decision here. It’s not just my life.” Chanyeol tried to hold on to Ji Seok, but the other man stepped back, not pulling away entirely, but just far enough so he could get a look at the other man, trying to read him. Chanyeol lowered his face, not wanting to show Ji Seok too much.

“Why didn’t you tell me something was wrong? I might not be able to fix everything, but I can sure as hell try. I can be here for you. This isn’t something you have to do on your own. This isn’t something you _can_ do on your own. This is us, right?” Ji Seok leaned in, trying to capture Chanyeol’s gaze, trying to get something from him.

“You don’t understand. You can’t understand. Anything I do from this point on has an impact on all of the members of EXO. On their lives. On their careers. On the entire company. On you. On your life. On your career. It’s too much.” Chanyeol released his grip on Ji Seok.

“You aren’t some hero in a drama, Chanyeol. You can’t just sit back and think things through by yourself, listening to some fucking sad OST, and expect it to work out in the end. There is no fucking fairy godmother who’s gonna come and straighten it out for you, for us, or even for your fucking members.” Ji Seok threw up his hands in frustration. “You aren’t listening to me. _We_ have to talk through the issues. _We_ have to figure out options. _We_ have to choose a solution. You can’t take everything your company says at face value.”

“That’s easy for you to say, Ji Seok, it’s different for you. I know you want to help, but as you’ve pointed out, you’re not a fairy fucking godmother. I need one more night to think it through.”

“Fine. But it’s not just about you. You go ahead and think on things. Make a decision. But it’s not just up to you, I’m a part of this equation,” he said, his voice hard and hurt. “You come and see me tomorrow. I’ll be at the studio all day.” He pulled away, turned, and walked into cold night, the bag of food left sitting on the ground next to Chanyeol’s feet.

 


	13. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It gets sad. 
> 
> sorry.

“Yeah, I told him. So the fuck what. He needed to hear it.”

“It’s my fucking life, you bastard!”

Chanyeol heard the yelling as soon as he opened the front door to Ji Seok’s building. He knew he should leave. He knew that he wasn’t supposed to be hearing any of this. He couldn’t leave.

“Hyung, I’m just looking out for you.” Zico’s voice filled the front room, carried into the silent space from the back studio.

“You had no right saying anything to him. He’s got it hard enough as it is, he didn’t need you stepping in to make it worse. As far as he knows you fucking hate him, you’re going to fucking out him for dating your brother. You’re going to ruin his life and the lives of everyone he works with. You fucking shit!” Chanyeol moved, silently, through the front room and into the small hallway leading to the recording studio. As much as he knew he should, he couldn’t walk away from the scene unfolding in the room in front of him.

“And I will ruin him, if he hurts you, I will fucking destroy him. You don’t need this. You’ve already been through enough, Ji Seok. You’ve already watched your dreams disappear. You’ve already been hurt by these fucking industry people too much. I can’t watch it again.” Zico was pleading with his brother, trying to get him to understand.

“My dreams? What do you know about my dreams? Yeah, I thought I wanted to be an idol, but when it came down to it, the music was more important. The music and me. Being an idol is your fucking dream. Not mine. I’m happy. Or I was until you stepped in and scared away the one fucking guy I have been interested in for years. The one guy I finally thought was worth the risk of losing… of losing everything for.” Ji Seok’s voice was shaking with the effort to continue. “Fuck you, Ji Ho. Fuck you for taking this away from me.”

Chanyeol stood in the entrance to the studio watching the scene in front of him. The brothers were facing off, inches between them, fists clenched, the air nearly vibrating with their anger. He didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know if he should do anything.

“Fuck me? Fuck me? What did I take from you? The fucking industry took your chance at fucking making music. And fate, or your own self loathing, took the rest. Who do you fall in love with?” Zico gave a choked, bitter laugh. “One of the most fucking popular idols in one of the most fucking popular boy groups in the world. Yeah, like that was ever going to work, Ji Seok. Like he was ever going to choose you over that. You have no idea what pressure he is under. You have no idea how difficult it would ever be to choose you… to choose himself… over the rest of his group, over the company that raised him. It was never going to happen and it never will happen.”

“You don’t know shit, Ji Ho. You don’t know what I went through getting out of that life, and you don’t know what he has gone through to survive it. You know you, and that’s it. Don’t think for a minute that your experience, that your priorities are at all the same as anyone else’s. You don’t know anything about anything.”

“What the fuck ever, hyung,” Zico hissed, “It doesn’t matter anyway. He fucking left your ass as soon as he got any pressure at all. You’re gonna thank me in the end. You don’t need to be hurt any more, and I’m gonna see to it that you aren’t… even if that means weeding out the fucking dicks.”

“Fuck you, Ji Ho. He hasn’t left me. At least not yet. Give him a chance” Ji Seok shoved his brother away and turned to leave the studio. Chanyeol hated seeing this. He hated knowing that Ji Ho was right. He hated that Ji Seok was defending him. Chanyeol watched Ji Seok turn to leave the room, only to see him standing there, blocking his escape. Ji Seok paused for only a moment and then shot forward, grabbing Chanyeol’s wrist, pulling him down the hallway and out of the building. Chanyeol followed without saying a word.

The two rounded the block, moving into a parking garage and up the stairs to the second level. Ji Seok unlocked a small, black sports car on the passenger side and pushed Chanyeol into the seat, slamming the door. He walked around the front of the car and slid into the driver’s side. He rested his forehead on the steering wheel and slammed his hands onto the dash.

Chanyeol looked at him as he settled back into the seat. “You have a car?”

“Yes, I have car.” Ji Seok shook his head in disbelief. “Motherfucker!” he yelled, slamming the dash again. “Why didn’t you tell me that Ji Ho had threatened you? Why didn’t you tell me? Don’t you trust me?” He turned his head to look at Chanyeol, head still resting on the wheel.

“He wasn’t wrong, Ji Seok,” Chanyeol said quietly. “He wasn’t wrong about any of it. My life isn’t mine, and I don’t exactly get to make decisions on my own. I don’t get to choose how my life plays out.”

“No, you don’t, babe. You _don’t_ get to make decisions on your own. You have to make them with _me_. We’re together, right? We are a thing, and we have to talk shit through before we make decisions.” Ji Seok was pleading with Chanyeol. It was clear on his face that he knew what was coming and that he didn’t like it. He hated it.

“Ji Seok…” Chanyeol started.

“Don’t say my name,” Ji Seok interrupted. “Don’t say my name like that. Use some stupid pet name like dumpling, or fucking crab chips. Just don’t say my name like that.”

“Ji Seok, this isn’t going to work.” Chanyeol looked away, looked out the passenger window of the car, he couldn’t stand to see the pain on Ji Seok’s face.

“I don’t accept that, Chanyeol. That’s not true. It can work. We just have to figure it out together.” Ji Seok reached out for Chanyeol’s hand. Chanyeol pulled it back before he could make contact. “Chanyeol, no. Why are you doing this? Because of what Ji Ho said?”

“No, not because of Ji Ho. What he said wasn’t wrong, he just sw it before I did. The company knows. Let’s just say that they aren’t pleased. So, no, this isn’t because of Ji Ho, I’m doing it  because it isn’t going to work. Because I care too much about you and I don’t want to see you hurt when people find out about us. It would be too much.” Chanyeol held onto his thighs tightly, working hard to keep his hands steady.

“Fuck that. I don’t care about that. We’ll figure it out if and when it happens. You don’t get to break up with me because of something that might happen to me… especially if I don’t care if it happens to me.” Ji Seok reached out again, touched Chanyeol’s cheek with his finger tips. Chanyeol looked at him and saw tears beginning to well in his eyes.

“Fine, if you don't accept that,” he said coldly, “then accept this — I don’t want to be with you because you might ruin everything. Because being with you could fuck up my chances as an idol. It would ruin my career and my career is the most important thing in my life. Period.” Chanyeol looked straight into Ji Seok eyes as he said the words. It took everything he had, every ounce of hatred he felt for Lee Soo Man, to get through that moment without losing it, without grabbing Ji Seok and holding on to him forever.

Ji Seok’s hand dropped to his lap. He looked at Chanyeol, heart breaking. He whispered, “What the hell, Chanyeol? I’m fucking up your life? Is that what’s happening? How am I supposed to do anything if you won’t tell me what I’m doing wrong? Or is that it… It’s not that I’m doing anything wrong, it’s that I just exist in the first place? Fuck...” Chanyeol could see that Ji Seok was at a loss for words, he was drowning. It was killing Chanyeol to watch.

“We’re done. Please don’t call me. Just… just forget about me. I’m not worth it.” Chanyeol opened the car door and got out. He shut the door as gently as he could, not making a sound. He turned and walked away. Ji Seok sat in the car, not watching Chanyeol.

_________________________________________________________________

Chanyeol made it back to the dorm without noticing anything. He didn’t remember hailing a cab. He didn’t remember paying for it. He just found himself sitting on his bed with his head in his hands. Fuck. His heart really hurt. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and texted Tak Young Jun.

 

**Chanyeol**

It’s done.

 

Less than a minute later, Tak Young Jun responded

 

**Tak Youngjun**

You made the right choice.   
Ji Seok is a strong kid, he’ll be fine.

 

Chanyeol threw his phone against the wall as hard as he could, It shattered to pieces. This was not the way it was supposed to be.

It was really done.

 


	14. Desperate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chanyeol gets into a little self medication...soju doesn't solve shit.

The next few weeks were some of the worst Chanyeol had ever experienced in his life. He went through the motions of choreography, singing, going to photo shoots, doing interviews, and performing. He worked hard to exhaust himself at first, making extra effort in practices, spending long hours at the gym, cloistering himself in the workrooms, writing lyrics, composing music. Nothing worked. He couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t eat. He had started closing in on himself. He didn’t feel comfortable being alone but being around people was too painful. He felt claustrophobic being inside, but being out in the open almost scared him. He felt raw and exposed. But he tried. He tried so hard to be normal.

Three weeks after making the decision, after ripping out his heart for the fucking company, Chanyeol was bitterly angry. He was finding it difficult to put on the happy, beagle facade. He was slipping, making sarcastic comments during interviews, choking out biting jokes at the expense of other members. He snapped at a photographer that had asked him to, yet again, look sexier. The photographer complained to Tak Young Jun and he had been reprimanded for his behavior. He didn’t care.

“You need to get yourself together, Chanyeol.” Xiumin stood in the doorway to his bedroom, looking afraid to get too close to his friend. “I know something happened, I know you’re going through something, and I can tell that you don’t want to talk about it. But you have to get yourself together. It’s causing problems.”

Chanyeol laughed bitterly. “You know what would help? A fucking drink.” He lay on his bed, splayed out, staring at the ceiling.

“So let’s do that. If it would help, let’s have a drink and get it out of your system. I miss you, man. I want you back,” Xiumin said, matter-of-factly. He took a step into the room, picking up a hoodie from the floor, tossing it at Chanyeol. “Put this on and let’s go to the convenience store. I’ll even let you pick the soju flavor. I will especially let you pick the flavor if you choose grapefruit. We can get snacks too. I’ll even pay.”

The two men walked to the closest convenience store and bought them out of grapefruit soju — six bottles between them — and stocked up on honey butter chips and crab chips, tossing in some ice cream for good measure. Xiumin put two cans of hangover drink into the bag at the last minute. “Just being prepared,” he intoned.

Chanyeol snorted. “That’s so like you, Xiumin. You’re always so prepared. How do you do it? How can you prepare for everything? Life’s gonna bite you in the ass someday and you’ll see that all of this preparation was for nothing.” He looked away from his friend, throwing cash at the clerk before grabbing the bags and leaving the store.

When they re-entered the dorm Chanyeol walked straight past Suho and Sehun sitting in the living room, not even acknowledging that they were in there. “What crawled up his ass?” Sehun asked, fed up with how Chanyeol had been acting.

“Just ignore him,” Suho said. “He’s going through something. He needs time.” He watched Xiumin follow Chanyeol into the bedroom and close the door. “I can’t say I blame him really. Things suck for him.” He shook his head and picked up his game controller. “Are we doing this or what?”

Chanyeol sat on the floor of the room, crossing his legs in front of him and setting the bag of soju in his lap. He pulled one out, cracked it open, and took a deep pull straight from the bottle before Xiumin had even made it all the way into the room.

“Channi, slow down! We have all night. Here.” He tossed him one of the small soju glasses he had grabbed on the way to the bedroom. Chanyeol caught it in one hand, set it on the floor, and took another swig directly from the bottle.

“Do me a favor, Xiumin,” Chanyeol said, looking up at his friend as he stood over him, kicking clothes into a pile to clear a space on the floor, “don’t ever forget that the company owns you. Owns us. Don’t forget for even a second. It hurts more when you forget.”

“Oh God, Chanyeol.” Xiumin dropped to his knees, pulling Chanyeol in for a hug, “What the hell happened? Can’t you tell me? Carrying whatever this is around alone can’t be good for you. It’s eating you up. Talk to me.”

“It’s not worth talking about. It’s done. That’s all that matters. Just promise me that you won’t forget, OK?” Chanyeol said, pulling away, taking another pull from the green bottle, making a face as the liquid burned the back of his throat.

“OK, I promise. Just please, please slow down.” Xiumin sat back on his heels and snatched the bottle from Chanyeol’s hand. He poured himself a glass and tossed it back. Chanyeol reached into the bag and opened a second bottle.

Chanyeol finished four and half of the bottles himself before passing out.

_________________________________________________________________

He couldn’t get up. The world was spinning, his head was pounding, he was about four minutes away from puking up his guts. It was such a relief to focus on how awful he felt instead of… instead of how awful he felt. There was absolutely no way he was going to make it to choreo today. No. Way. He rolled over and closed his eyes against the light seeping through the cracks in the blinds.

“Kyung Soo. I can’t. Xiumin did it to me. Blame him.” He flinched as Kyung Soo flicked him in the head.

“I’ll make your excuses. Don’t puke on my stuff,” Kyung Soo started out the door, pausing for a minute, “and get some sleep. You look like hell.” He left, slamming the door loudly in his wake.

Chanyeol stretched out on his back, pulled the blankets up to his chin, closed his eyes, and fell asleep.

_________________________________________________________________

Three nights later, it happened again. He missed an important concept development meeting for the next comeback the following morning. He didn’t care.

_________________________________________________________________

The third time Chanyeol brought soju to his room, planning to black out rather than sleep, Kyung Soo came home from the movie set early. He found Chanyeol stretched out on the floor, an empty bottle lying next to him, the second bottle open and half empty, sitting loosely in his hand. Chanyeol rolled his head to the side to watch Kyung Soo enter the room, a smile on his face.

“You are fucking kidding me, right? What, is this your new thing? Are you a fucking teenage girl? Break up with your boyfriend and drink your way into a fucking stupor? It’s been more than a month, Chanyeol. Go out and get some fresh air. You can’t stay here like this.” He kicked his friend’s leg before bending over to snatch the open bottle from his hand and take the bag containing three additional bottles.

Chanyeol sat up, pulling his knees in close to his chest, leaning on them, “Whatever man, I’m over it. This has nothing to do with that… with him. Fuck.”

“Oh, yeah? Say his name,” Kyungsoo challenged. “Say, ‘This has nothing to do with Woo Ji Seok.’” Chanyeol flinched.

“Fuck you, Kyung Soo. It has nothing to do with him.” Chanyeol stood, unsteady on his feet. He grabbed the coat he had left on the back of his computer chair and pushed past Kyung Soo. “Don’t even pretend like you care. It doesn’t suit you.”

“Chanyeol…” Kyung Soo was cut off by the door slamming.

Chanyeol walked. He wandered through the neighborhood near the dorm. Then he went further into the city not really looking at anything, not really caring. He was sobering up, and it scared him. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight. He knew he was pushing everyone away, but he didn’t know how to stop. He was just so angry.

He had walked so long that he wasn’t sure where he was anymore. The street was unfamiliar, full of college students and young adults, drinking, laughing, having a good time. He pulled the hood of his coat up and over his head, casting his face in shadow. Being recognized alone and kind of drunk would not be a good idea. A large group of young men and women were making their way down the sidewalk toward him, taking up the entire width of the available walkway. He didn’t want to deal with weaving through them, he couldn’t deal with them touching him. Chanyeol ducked into the nearest door.

He walked into a studio of some sort with crisp white walls, bright lights, and framed photographs of tattoos hanging around the room. There was a display case holding jewelry for body piercings, ornate and expensive looking. Chanyeol saw a woman leaning over someone reclining in a chair similar to the one he had seen at Ssab’s place. This was a tattoo parlor and judging from the photographs on the wall, the woman working in the back was a real artist.

“I’ll be with you in a moment!” she called out, pausing her tattoo gun long enough to greet him as he stood uncomfortably in the entryway.

“Um, it’s OK. I’m just looking.” Chanyeol shifted, moving his weight from one foot to the other, hands uncomfortably hanging at his sides. “You don’t have to stop.”

“No big deal. I’m three minutes away from finishing this up. Don’t move.” She leaned back over her client and started the gun again. Chanyeol heard the buzz of the equipment and flashed back to watching Ji Seok laughing as his friend created a work of art on his inner arm. He unconsciously raised his arms up, hugging himself. He was lost in the memory.

“Hey, hey you. You OK?” The woman was standing in front of him. He blinked. She was tall and slender with long black hair pulled over her shoulder. Her arms, visible under the short sleeves of her black dress, were adorned with colorful swirls and intricate patterns. “You doing alright there, buddy? I don’t need someone passing out in my shop.”

“No,” Chanyeol said, “it’s not like that. I’m fine. Just having a bad day. Your… Your stuff is great. Did you do all of these?” He gestured around the room.

“I did, yes. And thank you. Are you interested in having some work done? Do you have something in mind?” she asked, hands fluttering around Chanyeol in her excitement.

“No, not me. I just… Maybe. Maybe I am interested. If I brought you some art… something from… something someone drew, could you do it?” He dropped one arm to his side, the other crossing over his stomach, clutching his bicep.

“Of course! I’d want to see it in advance, do a tracing, make sure it made sense, but yeah, I can do almost anything.” She cocked her head to the side. “Do you have it? The art? Can I see it?”

“I don’t have it on me. I’ll come back. I’ll bring it.” Chanyeol smiled at her, the first real smile he’d given anyone in a long time.

_________________________________________________________________

Almost two months after leaving Ji Seok — giving up Ji Seok — and almost two weeks after stumbling upon the tattoo parlor, Chanyeol was going stir crazy. He had tried to pull himself together since Kyung Soo had yelled at him, had kicked him out. He hadn’t brought alcohol home, he hadn’t missed any meetings, he hadn’t been able to sleep. He needed to get the fuck out. To do something. So he did.

At nearly midnight, with Kyung Soo sleeping in the bed across the room, Chanyeol dressed quickly and quietly in the dark. He slipped on a pair of tight, black skinny jeans and a tight, blue t-shirt, then he grabbed his jacket and slid through the bedroom door, not making a sound as he closed it. He made his way through the darkened living room and put his feet into a pair of red oxblood Doc Martins.

Chanyeol knew it probably wasn’t his best idea, but he returned to the club where Zico had held his birthday party, where he had first met Ji Seok. He didn’t know why he went there, but it felt right in its wrongness. It was like pressing on a bruise, the pain made him feel a little more alive. He went through the dark, narrow hallway into the vast, open space of the club’s main room. It was crowded, the music was loud and throbbing. The place felt completely different than his last visit.

He made a beeline for the bar, downing two shots before taking his beer, and a second beer,  over to where he had found the secluded table the last time he had been here. There were no available tables. Of course there were no available tables, it was a Friday night in a popular club. He made his way to the back wall, and propped himself against it as he drank his first pint quickly, barely stopping to take a breath. The second one he sipped more slowly, enjoying the taste of it, feeling the burn from the shots in his gut.

He scanned the crowd, not expecting to see anyone he knew. Enjoying the anonymity of the darkened corner… until he saw him. Ji Seok. He was here. He was here, and he looked good. He wore slim jeans with rips slashed horizontally across his thighs, his knees, and his shins. He had on an oversized orange hoodie and a black hat sitting backwards on his head. He was beautiful.

Chanyeol straightened up, swaying, already more drunk than he had realized. He took a step as if to unconsciously move toward Ji Seok, running into a woman walking past, spilling her drink down her arm onto her dress. She screamed and threw a fit. He apologized over and over. Not wanting to cause a scene, not wanting to be noticed.

It didn’t work. He looked back over at Ji Seok who was looking directly at him. His face a hard mask. The man next to him shoved Ji Seok forward a little so he could get a better look at the commotion Chanyeol had caused. It was Zico. When he recognized Chanyeol, his face tightened. His fists clenched. Ji Seok tried to hold him back, gripping his arms, but Zico threw him off and charged at Chanyeol. He grabbed a fist full of Chayeol’s shirt bringing his face within inches of Chanyeol’s.

“How dare you fucking show your face here,” Zico hissed, spitting on Chanyeol’s cheeks. “How dare you show up like nothing happened. I fucking warned you. I told you that if you hurt him I would hurt you.” He pulled his free hand back and threw a punch, hitting Chanyeol square in the jaw. Chanyeol felt the sharp pain of it course through his face, felt his head snap back before turning slowly back to look directly into Zico’s eyes. He didn’t struggle, he didn’t fight back.

“You warned me. I deserve it. I deserve whatever you want to do to me. I know that.” His knees gave out and he sagged into Zico for a moment. “Fucking hit me. Hit me again.” But Zico couldn’t. Ji Seok had grabbed his fist, cocked to throw another punch. He grabbed his fist and lowered it, pulling Zico off of Chanyeol.

“This isn’t the place, Ji Ho. Look at who you’re hitting, it will be all over SNS in seconds. Stop.” Chanyeol fell to his knees as Zico dropped him. Ji Seok knelt down next to him, slipped his hands into Chanyeol’s armpits, and lifted him to his feet. “Get out of here, Chanyeol. I don’t know what you’re doing, but just fucking leave.” He turned and walked away. He didn’t look back.

Chanyeol took off. He rushed out of the club as quickly as he could. He ran. He needed to put distance between himself and Ji Seok. Seeing him had taken his breath away. It was like a knife in his gut. He couldn’t handle it. He ran into a convenience store and bought two bottles of soju, downing one as soon as he stepped back into the street. He coughed and sputtered. It was too much and not enough all at once.

He needed to do something. He needed to take his mind off the pain of seeing Ji Seok. He needed a different kind of pain. He made his way back the tattoo parlor he had found. Back to the studio he had visited multiple times over the last two weeks. He was ready now. He would get his permanent reminder, and he would move on.

 


	15. Eye Opening Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suho is a dick.
> 
> Chanyeol finally starts to get a clue.

It was late morning, maybe not even morning anymore, when Chanyeol started to surface from his booze-induced haze. His head was pounding, his jaw ached, and when he rolled over to get away from the sunlight, his lower abdomen stung with a sharp, rubbing pain. The previous night was nothing more than flashes of light and bad feelings. He was doing his damndest to keep away any fully formed memories, knowing that he would be full of regret.

Chanyeol heard the door to the dorm open and slam closed. He heard arguing, but he didn’t try very hard to understand the words. He curled tighter into a ball, ignoring his physical pain to draw further into himself.

The door to the bedroom flew open, slamming against the wall. Suho charged in, heading straight to Chanyeol’s bed, grabbing him by the shirt and lifting him off the bed. Chanyeol remained slack, eyes open, watching it happen, but not responding. Kyung Soo ran to Suho trying to pull him off of Chanyeol. The leader physically shook Chanyeol while shouting at him. It took Chanyeol almost a full minute before he was able to focus on what was being yelled at him.

“Are you _trying_ to ruin us? You goddamned motherfucker! How could you fucking miss this meeting. This was critical. This was about our fucking world tour. We look like fucking amatures because you couldn’t pull your shit together and get your ass to the meeting!” Suho continued to shake Chanyeol to emphasize each ‘fuck’ that came out of his mouth.

“Suho, calm down. Suho, It’ll be OK. Let me talk to him. Let me take care of this.” Kyung Soo kept his hand on Suho’s shoulder, speaking in an even, low tone, face giving away nothing.

Suho looked down at his fists bunched in Chanyeol’s shirt, exposing a wide expanse of Chanyeol’s stomach and the fresh tattoo marking his abdomen, the deep black in stark contrast with his pale skin. “Goddamn it! What the hell is this?” Suho’s angry gaze shooting back to Chanyeol’s face, waiting for a response. Chanyeol only closed his eyes.

Suho released his grip on Chanyeol, dropping him onto the bed. “Good luck taking care of this shit, Kyung Soo. This fucker is broken. It’s been two months. He needs to get over himself. It’s not like that guy came rushing over to get him back… one little threat to his studio and he was out.” He was looking Chanyeol in the eyes as he spoke. Chanyeol stiffened, face tightening. Suho smirked and backed away from the bed. This time, he looked at Kyung Soo as he spoke, “Talk to him, Kyung Soo. Either fix him, or he’s out. There is nothing more I can do to protect him from SM. They aren’t happy, and they aren’t afraid to show it.” He looked at Chanyeol one more time, anger having been replaced by pity in his eyes, before he walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

Chanyeol curled over onto his side again, knees to his chest, facing away from Kyung Soo. Kyung Soo sat on the bed and reached out a hand, placing it on Chanyeol’s hip. “Hey, shithead, you really fucked up this time.” He spoke in a soft voice, no malice behind the words, no anger. “You need to talk about this… We need to talk about this. We need to figure out what we’re going to do to help you.”

Chanyeol pulled himself into a tighter ball, made himself smaller but didn’t pull out of Kyung Soo’s reach. “Chanyeol, look at me. Please look at me. I know you feel like shit, probably hungover too, but you don’t get to just lay there. If things are going to get better, you have to put in the effort. That effort starts with you looking at me… right now.”

His shoulders shook as tears started to roll down down his cheeks. He didn’t make a sound as he cried, but his body began to uncurl, and he slowly rolled to his other side, facing Kyung Soo. His friend moved closer, laid down next to Chanyeol, pulling him into his arms, tucking him into his chest tightly.

Kyung Soo rested his chin on Chanyeol’s head and shushed him through great, wracking sobs. Everything that Chanyeol had been trying so hard to push down, to hide, came out of him. Now that he had started crying, he didn’t know how to stop. He didn’t know how to shut it off, how to control himself. He tried  to focused on the soft noises Kyung Soo was making, his hand rubbing his spine, other hand holding the back of his head. The rhythm began to soothe him.

“Oh, Channi, you have been through so fucking much,” Kyung Soo whispered into Chanyeol’s ear as his sobs slowed. “You have been through so much all alone, and you shouldn’t have been. I’m here now. I’m here. I am so sorry that I have been so busy. I thought it would be better if I wasn’t here. God, I’m the worst fucking friend.”

He pushed Chanyeol away from him a little, giving them room to readjust their position, to sit up so he could see his friend’s face. He wiped Chanyeol’s tears from his cheeks with the pads of his thumbs before wrapping an arm around him, pulling him to his side. “I am so sorry.” he repeated.

Chanyeol brought his palms to his eyes, cradling his head for a moment. He exhaled harshly, dropping his hands and turning to Kyung Soo. “You have no reason to be sorry. I did this. All of it.”

“No. You fell in love. That’s it. You fell in love, and some asshole with power didn’t like it. This isn’t the first time it’s happened. You aren’t the first person to get screwed by a corporation. I know that doesn’t make it any easier, but you aren’t the first idol to fall in love and have to end things… or not start things… because of a fucking company.” He reached over and hooked his index finger under Chanyeol’s chin, lifting his head to get a better look at his face. “Oh, god, Chanyeol,” he sighed, eyebrows drawing together, “What the hell happened to you?” He ran his thumb along the dark bruise running across the other man’s jaw.

“Nothing more than I deserved.” Chanyeol dropped his head.

“Suho told me everything. I heard what the company did to you, how they threatened you. You don’t deserve any of this. Look, I know it feels like they own you, but they don’t. Whatever happens here is up to you. If you weren’t an idol anymore, but you had Ji Seok, would you be this fucking miserable? Wouldn’t you just keep making music in a shitty little studio somewhere? With him?” Kyungsoo grabbed Chanyeol’s shoulders, forcing him to look him in the eye. “Would you be this miserable if he were the one here talking to you right now?”

Chanyeol dropped his head, closing his eyes for a moment, Kyung Soo’s words washing over him. He was miserable. He wanted to stop being miserable. The only way he could see that happening was if he could talk to Ji Seok, to figure things out with him. To be next to him. He didn’t need everything else. He really didn’t.

He let the idea settle over him. “Oh god…” His eyes were wet again with more unshed tears, the idea of possible futures, of a chance with Ji Seok dawned on him. “What did I do? It’s too late. How do I fix this?”

“Do? You talk to him,” Kyung Soo replied, dropping his hands from the other man’s shoulders, looking at his palms laying open, limp, on his lap.

“But what do I say? How do I explain it? I was such an asshole.” Chanyeol leaned in toward his friend, trying to look into Kyung Soo’s face. ”I don’t know if he’ll ever come back to me.”

“You’re asking _me_ to tell you how to win this guy back?” Kyung Soo asked, lifting his head, features drawn. “I don’t have any sage advice. Like I said before, I haven’t been through anything like this. The best thing I can tell you is that if you really want him back, if he really means so much to you, then you should tell him.” He clapped his hand on Chanyeol’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze before standing up and heading to the door. “Look, I hate to leave you right now, I really do, but I have this stupid movie…”

Chanyeol watched his best friend walk over to the door and hesitate, hand on the knob, seeming to consider something. Kyung Soo shook his head once, opened the door, and walked through.

_________________________________________________________________

Chanyeol spent the rest of the day alone in his room. He thought long and hard about how he could apologize to Ji Seok, to try to make it up to him. He didn’t believe he could salvage the relationship, but he wanted to at least tell Ji Seok that he knew that he had fucked up, and that none of it was Ji Seok’s fault. He felt like he owed the man the world for everything he had given him. An apology really wasn’t enough, but it was a start.

By midnight, Kyung Soo still hadn’t returned. By 2 a.m. Chanyeol was going crazy staring at the walls. He needed to get out, he needed to do something, not in the same way as the night before, not in a desperate way, but just a drive to be out, to go. He grabbed his jacket off the floor where it had been discarded the night before, put a snapback on his head, and slipped out of the room, out of the dorm.

When he reached the street, he started walking, aimlessly at first, and then with purpose. He arrived at a busy intersection and hailed a cab. He didn’t really think Ji Seok would be at the coffee shop, but it was somewhere that they had spent time together and he thought it would help him figure out what to say, how to say it. It was somewhere they had gotten to know each other better, where he had gotten the design that now marked his abdomen, where they had begun to grow the connection they shared.

When the cab pulled up to the mouth of the alley where the small coffee shop was hidden, Chanyeol hesitated, unsure if this was a good idea. Maybe the risk of bumping into Ji Seok again was too great, but he really wanted to think things through in a place where they had spent time together. He wanted to see Ji Seok, but things hadn’t gone well when he had run into him the night before. Ji Seok hadn’t wanted to see him. He had walked away from him. Maybe going to the places where they had once spent time was just making this all that much more difficult. Fuck it.

Chanyeol paid the cab driver and got out of the car. He slowly made his way up the alley, pausing again at the door before pushing it open. The shop was small, only a handful of tables. The halmoni that owned and ran the place was missing from her stool behind the counter. There were three customers in the room, a young couple sitting over two empty cups and a plate holding a half eaten pastry and a man, sitting with his back to the door, hunched over a notebook. It was Ji Seok.

The bell hanging over the door chimed as Chanyeol moved into the shop, the young lovers glanced at him as he entered, but Ji Seok didn’t even flinch. Chanyeol didn’t feel ready for this, didn’t know what to say, but he couldn’t leave. His feet… or his heart… wouldn’t let him leave. He walked toward Ji Seok, hands rubbing his thighs.

As he got close to the table he cleared his throat. “Ji Seok?” The man’s hand stilled, pencil poised over whatever he had been drawing. The bell over the door chimed again as the couple left the coffee shop. “Ji Seok, I’m so sorry. I know I’m not supposed to say that… that it probably doesn’t mean much anymore… but I am so sorry it hurts.” He stopped, waiting for the man to react, to respond in some way. When he saw Ji Seok’s shoulders sag, his head bow, and the pencil fall, Chanyeol continued, “I fucked up. It was all my fault. I was stupid. I let them win. I didn’t fight back. I didn’t know how… I didn’t understand.”

“Chanyeol, I’m not sure why you’re here.” Ji Seok spoke, his voice cracking. “What are you trying to get out of this? Are you trying to make yourself feel better by apologizing? Do you feel better now?” Ji Seok turned toward Chanyeol, he looked exhausted, pale, and vulnerable.

“No. I don’t. I can’t. I can’t feel better until I make you understand. I don’t think I’ll feel better even if you do understand. I broke this… this thing we have. I did. They threatened you, the company said that they’d destroy what you’d built for yourself if I didn’t leave you. I couldn’t be the reason you lost everything you’ve worked for. You’d hate me. You’d have nothing left, and you’d hate me. It seemed better to just have you hate me while you still had everything.” Chanyeol stood still, not moving, trying to read Ji Seok’s expression.

“Have everything? Fuck, Chanyeol, I gave everything up once already. I left it all, I chose to leave it all so I could live my own life. Do you think I would have thought twice about my fucking studio or my fucking reputation as long as you were with me? God, you really don’t get it do you.” It wasn’t a question.  

“You’re right. You’re absolutely right. I didn’t get it. I get it now. I get it and I’m sorry. I know that isn’t much. I’ve thought so hard about what I could do… of how to fix this. But I just don’t know. I can’t figure it out. How do I get to be with you without ruining the lives of everyone I work with. I don’t fucking care about my career, but how do I get to keep you without destroying everyone else?” Chanyeol’s shoulders sagged. “I can’t seem to figure out how to keep us safe and how to keep them safe at the same time. I just can’t solve it, but I’m trying.”

“I still don’t think you understand, this wasn’t about you. This was about us. This was never something you could solve on your own no matter how hard you tried. I never wanted to ruin your group, to fuck over the other members, but I did want to figure it out together. I needed you to tell me what was wrong so I could at least help. I certainly didn’t fucking need you to run away.” Ji Seok sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “Fuck, Chanyeol. I still love you. I don’t know what to do about that. I don’t know what I _can_ do.” He exhaled again, pushed back his chair and stood up. “What do you want, Chanyeol? Are you here just to apologize?”

“Honestly, no. No. I want so much more than to only apologize. I just… I don’t feel like I deserve any more than that. I don’t know how to ask for more than that.” Chanyeol looked away, rubbed his hands on his thighs again, trying and failing to hold in his tears.

“Just say it. Say what you want.”

He looked back at Ji Seok, cheeks wet. “Shit. Ji Seok, I want you. I want you so much. I want you more than I have ever wanted anything. I need you. I love you.” He swayed.

Ji Seok nodded his head. “Thank you for saying that…” He stepped closer to Chanyeol, cupping his cheek in his hand, wiping at the tears with his thumb. Dropping his hand, he stepped around Chanyeol, taking a few steps towards the door. He paused, and without turning around, he added, “I love you, Chanyeol, and this could work, but are you really hearing me? I need you to really think about what I’m saying here. I need you to remember that the company isn’t everything and that we can work together to figure things out.”  He hesitated, “You still need time.” Chanyeol heard the bell ring as the door opened and Ji Seok left.

Chanyeol sagged, gripping the chair in front of him for support. He looked at the table Ji Seok had been using and saw his notebook and pencils strewn across the surface. The pages were open to the profile of a man, half drawn.

 


	16. Sparkles and Rainbows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is so exciting when someone figures himself out and makes a move...am I right?

It took him four days to figure out what he wanted, or needed, to do first and another four days to work up the nerve to actually do it.

Chanyeol stormed through Lee Soo Man’s door, the man’s secretary close behind him, trying to stop what could only be described as an invasion.

“You can’t just come in here!” she yelled, trying to move around Chanyeol and block him from making his way further into the room. “Sir, I tried to stop him,” she said, turning her head toward the president, arms outstretched to create a barrier around Chanyeol.

“I want out,” Chanyeol said, speaking directly to Lee Soo Man over the secretary’s head. “I want to break the contract. I’ll pay the fines.I want out.”

“Let him in, Miss Kim,” Lee Soo Man said, pushing aside a stack of papers and standing up. “Chanyeol, sit.” He pointed at the chairs in front of his desk.

The secretary lowered her arms and straightened her skirt before giving Chanyeol a disapproving look and walking over to the door. She exited, closing it sharply, but quietly, behind her.

“Now, what is this about, Chanyeol? What were you saying?” Lee Soo Man said, taking on a concerned, fatherly tone. He sat back down in his large, leather chair, effecting a calm facade.

Chanyeol walked over to the desk but didn’t sit. “I said that I want out.” He rested his hands on the back of the chair. “I thought I should give you notice so you could begin making preparations. I’m done.”

Lee Soo Man closed his eyes for a moment, collecting himself. “Chanyeol,” he said, opening his eyes again, “EXO is on top of the world. _you_ are on top of the world. Why would you throw that away? Is someone recruiting you? Is it YG? That bastard…”

Chanyeol shook his head in disbelief. “No, no one is recruiting me. This isn’t about being an idol for someone else. This is about what I’ve had to give up to be an idol.” He let go of the chair, arms dropping to his sides, annoyed that Lee Soo Man seemed to have forgotten the threats, and his sacrifice, so quickly.

The SM president furrowed his brow in confusion before recalling the events of more than two months ago. “Is this about that producer? Are you saying that you want to leave EXO, to leave all of this,” he spread his arms wide, gesturing around the office, “for that producer?” He said the last word with disgust. “You said you had ended that relationship. Did you lie to me or do you seriously think that he would take you back knowing that we would end his career?”

“This isn’t about him. This is about me. This is about what I have had to sacrifice to be an idol for this company. Two months ago you seemed pretty damn sure that EXO could move on without me, could stay on top, so I’m gonna let them do that. I want out. When my contract is up, I’m done.” He moved around the chair, standing directly in front of Lee Soo Mon with only the desk between them. Chanyeol sounded calm, collected, and sure of himself. His insides were quaking.

“Chanyeol, let’s talk about this like professionals. SM has… No, _I_ have invested a hell of a lot into making you what you are today, making you _all_ what you are. We suffered setbacks when those ungrateful Chinese brats abandoned us, accused us of treating them unfairly. Do you want to be the one responsible for finally ruining the lives of everyone else in the group, the lives of all of the managers, all of the staff, by leaving? By running away because you aren’t strong enough to deal with your own success?” He stood, leaning forward, fingertips pressing into the surface of the desk.

The accusation stung, but Chanyeol saw an opening, he mirrored his boss’s pose, leaning forward, fingers spread out, turning white from the pressure he was exerting on the desk. “I’m not running away from EXO or the staff. I’m protecting myself and protecting them from something you see as a threat.”

“Do you think breaking your contract is going to make everything OK? Do you think the company will just be fine with it? There will be consequences, even if we don’t have a contract, even if you pay the fine, there will be consequences. You won’t be able to do music anymore, that I can guarantee.” Lee Soo Man narrowed his eyes at Chanyeol.

“I don’t care about that.” Chanyeol smirked, lifting his shoulders in an exaggerated shrug. “I’ve given all of my adult life to EXO and what has it given me? A few awards and the view of foreign countries from inside a hotel room. It isn’t worth it anymore. I’m willing to see it all end.”

“You’re willing to do that to your members?” Lee Soo Man lifted his chin, playing on what he knew to be Chanyeol’s weakness.

“Are you willing to negotiate to protect your investment? Are you open to hearing my terms?” Chanyeol said in a steady, unwavering voice, not bowing to the pressure.

Lee Soo Man squinted his eyes, sizing up Chanyeol. “And what exactly are these terms? What more do you think you are going to get out of SM?”

“I want SM to stay out of my fucking private life.” Chanyeol stared Lee Soo Man in the eye, his gaze unwavering. “I want a guarantee, in my contract, that you will stay out of my private life, that you won’t try to control my private life, and you won’t comment on my private life. Period.” He straightened up to his full height and cocked his chin toward Lee Soo Man. “If you can give me that, I can give you a few more years.”

“And you can guarantee that you will keep your fucking private life private? Is this what you are promising me?”

“I can guarantee that I won’t intentionally or willfully damage the company. If you want EXO to continue making you money for the foreseeable future, this is the deal. You let me know when you decide.” Chanyeol turned, chin still raised, back straight, and walked out of the office. He made it as far as the closest men’s bathroom before he collapsed against the wall, sucking in air to keep down the vomit.

_________________________________________________________________

Three days later Chanyeol worked up the courage to contact Ji Seok.

 

**Chanyeol**

You left your notebook and stuff at the coffee shop

 

**Chanyeol**

I have it.   
I can bring it to you.

 

**Ji Seok**

It’s not important.   
Just throw it out.

 

**Chanyeol**

It’s amazing.   
I can’t do that.   
I’ll bring it to the studio.

 

**Ji Seok**

Don’t bother.   
Toss it.

 

**Chanyeol**

It’s your art, I can’t throw it away

 

Nearly 18 minutes passed before Chanyeol received the reply.

 

**Ji Seok**

Whatever.  
Just keep it then

 

Chanyeol smiled to himself.

_________________________________________________________________

Two days later, he tried again.

 

**Chanyeol**

I found your hoodie…   
from that time in the studio.

 

**Ji Seok**

I have other hoodies

 

**Chanyeol**

It’s winter.   
It’s cold.   
You can’t have too many hoodies

 

**Ji Seok**

Apparently you need it more than I do.   
Keep it.

_________________________________________________________________

He needed to see Ji Seok in person. He needed to tell him what had happened, to tell him that he’d figured some shit out. It’s not perfect, he knows it’s not perfect, not yet, but it’s closer. The moment he could get away from his responsibilities, Chanyeol ran to Ji Seok’s studio.

It had been months since he’d entered this place and he wasn’t quite sure what his reception would be. He didn’t call ahead, didn’t tell anyone he was coming. He had no idea if Ji Seok would be there, if anyone else was there. Chanyeol only knew that he had to see Ji Seok. As soon as possible. And he knew that if he gave the man any sort of warning, Ji Seok might find a way to prevent it from happening. So he went. He walked right up to the door and went in. The front room was dark, it was early evening and there wasn’t anyone around. The door wasn’t locked so Chanyeol let himself in hoping that Ji Seok was in the studio. Alone.

He made his way through the room, trying to listen for voices on the other end of the short hallway, craning his neck, looking for light. As he moved into the narrow space separating the front room from the work area, he heard voices, two distinct voices, murmuring. He hesitated, feeling unsure, not wanting to piss of Ji Seok by just showing up, but needing to see him. He continued forward.

“Ji Seok,” Chanyeol said, making his presence known, standing in the entrance to the studio.

Ji Seok lifted his head, turning toward Chanyeol, away from the soundboard where he had been working, the man beside him also sitting up to see who had interrupted their work.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here? Goddamn motherfucker!” Zico stood forcefully, his chair falling back onto the floor. Ji Seok grabbed him, physically restraining his younger brother from attacking Chanyeol. “There’s no one here to record it this time, fucker, I’m gonna kill you.”

“No, Ji Ho. Stop. This isn’t your fight. You’ve made your point. Now fucking let it go.” Ji Seok held on to Zico but loosened his grip as he turned back to Chanyeol. “Why are you here?”

“I have to talk to you. I have to tell you…” Chanyeol started, but Zico interrupted him.

“You… you have something to tell him? What, you want to make some more excuses? You want to rub it in his face that you chose SM over him? I think you made that pretty clear the first time around. There’s no reason to bring it up again. There’s no reason for you to even be here.” His words were bitter, his voice tight, but he didn’t make a move toward Chanyeol, his initial burst of anger at seeing the other idol passing.

“Ji Ho, can you give us a minute?” Ji Seok looked at his brother, head cocked to the side.

“Leave? No fucking way. You don’t need this shit.”

“I am not your fucking child! I am your brother. Your older brother. You can stop defending my honor. You don’t get to decide who I talk to or who I see. Just give us a fucking minute.” Ji Seok stood, putting his hand on Zico’s elbow, and guiding him to the door.

“Wait,” Chanyeol said. “He can stay. He should stay. He should hear this. I think… I think this is something he should hear too.”

“You want to my brother to hear your shit?” Ji Seok asked, confused, but pulling his hand back from Zico’s arm.

“Yeah, well, no, but I want him to hear this part. I think he should know… he should hear it from me… I told them I was done.” He paused, trying to gauge their reactions.

Ji Seok sucked in a breath and looked at Chanyeol for a long moment. “I don’t think I quite get what you mean. You told who that you’re done? Done with what?” Zico stood, looking at Chanyeol, eyes showing his comprehension.

“I told them I was done. I’m breaking the contract unless they include a rider about staying out of my fucking personal life. My lawyer wrote something. I don’t get it all, but basically, they can’t fucking touch me unless I purposefully hurt EXO or the company. They can’t touch me for just living.” Chanyeol took a step further into the room, hands raised as if he was giving Ji Seok something, a gift.

“They agreed?” Ji Ho asked, voice tinged with disbelief. “They’re signing it? SM?”

“I don’t know.” Chanyeol acknowledged. “But they haven’t said no yet and I gave them the terms about a week ago. I don’t know and I kind of don’t care. I want it to work. I want to do what I’m doing. I love it.” He paused, turning to look at Ji Seok. “I love it so much. But I love you more. I figured that out.” He moved closer, to within just a few steps of Ji Seok. “I wanted you to know.”

“Oh, babe,” Ji Seok breathed.

“Ji Seok…” Zico started, not yelling, not stopping him, just saying his name.

“Get out, Ji Ho. Just please get out.” Ji Seok said the words without looking at his brother.

Zico walked around Chanyeol toward the door, stopping next to him and putting a hand on his shoulder, “If this is true, you might just be worth more than I gave you credit for.” He raised his hand and patted Chanyeol’s shoulder once before making his way out of the studio.

The two remaining men stood, quietly facing each other for a full minute before Ji Seok started talking. “What made you do it?”

“Honestly, it was something Kyung Soo reminded me of… and something you said. He reminded me that SM didn’t own me… I know it sounds stupid, but I have been living and breathing SM for so long I guess I kind of forgot.” Chanyeol looked at Ji Seok trying to read his expression.

“And what I said?” Ji Seok, urged him to continue, his expression interested, but showing nothing further.

Chanyeol exhaled. “Two things really. First, you told me not to take everything they said at face value, that I couldn’t really trust it. It took a while for it to sink in, but it gave me an idea. I thought I could call their bluff. It might blow up in my face. I could have just royally fucked myself, EXO and everyone, but I might not have.” Chanyeol smiled, hope curling in his gut.

Ji Seok returned the smile, the right side of his mouth just slightly higher than the left, hinting at his genuine pleasure at Chanyeol’s news. “And the second thing?”

“You said that you love me.” Chanyeol peered closer at Ji Seok, looking for a tell to indicate that what he was saying meant as much to Ji Seok as it did to him. “At the coffee shop. You said, ‘I love you.’ You didn’t say, ‘I loved you.’” He took another step toward Ji Seok, biting his lip to stop himself from saying more, giving the other man a chance to respond.

“The idol life wasn’t for me, but I never wanted you to give it up,” Ji Seok started, running his fingers through his hair. “I just wanted you to see that you had options.”

“I know.” Chanyeol stood his ground, giving Ji Seok space to process.

“I didn’t want you to fuck over your other members. Never. I wasn’t asking you to leave them. I couldn’t do that.” He continued, pausing to gather his thoughts, pressing his lips together.

“I know.”

“I wanted you to talk to me, to trust that I would be there for you. I wanted you to come to me to help you. I wanted to come up with something together that we could both live with. To not just give up. To find a way to make it work.” The words came out in a rush, like he had to get them out.

“I know. I know that now. I figured it out,” Chanyeol said, his body screaming to reach out to Ji Seok, his mind telling him to wait. “You told me. You told me what I needed to know, but I couldn’t figure it out… not until I saw you again. At the coffee shop.”

Ji Seok exhaled. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, fists at his side. “Goddamn it.” He brought his chin back down, opening his eyes to look at Chanyeol. “You are so fucking stupid.”

Chanyeol laughed. “I know that too.” The smile stayed on his lips.

“You are also one hard motherfucker to get over,” Ji Seok said, a small laugh breaking the tension, “Did you know that?”

“Fuck, I’d hoped so,” Chanyeol said, bringing the heels of his hands to his eyes, pressing them  in, lowering his head as if his neck couldn’t support the weight anymore. “I really hoped so.” His grin widened as he lowered his hands, looking at Ji Seok again, eyes damp.

“Don’t fucking cry,” Ji Seok said, arms reaching out to grab Chanyeol by the biceps, to bring him closer. “I don’t ever want to see you cry again.”

Chanyeol brought his hands up, loosely gripping Ji Seok’s shirt at the waist. “So, does that mean you’ll see me again?”

“Not seeing you was harder than any of the shit I’ve gone through before,” Ji Seok said, opening his fingers and sliding his palms around Chanyeol’s arms and over his back, pulling him in even closer. “I don’t know that I really have a choice anymore.”

Chanyeol breathed in deeply, exhaling with relief. He rested his forehead on Ji Seok’s shoulder and spoke into his chest. “If I get fired, someone has to feed me. You have to feed me.”

“God, you fucking suck,” Ji Seok laughed, lifting Chanyeol’s chin with his fingers and pulling him in for a deep kiss.

 


	17. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fourteen months later.....a bit naughty

It had been an extremely long day, the kind of day that starts before the sun rises and doesn’t end until well into the next. But it was one of the best days Chanyeol had ever experienced. After shelving his song — their first song — for almost a year and a half, the company had finally released it as part of SM Station. Chanyeol and Ji Seok had had to be at MBC’s FM4U radio station by 6 a.m. to appear on a morning talk show before going to an interview and photoshoot for some Kpop-focused online magazine and then performing the song on a music show live broadcast. 

The couple had settled into a routine over the last year, doing everything possible to avoid revealing their relationship to the world. They arrived at events, scheduled appearances, and even dates, separately. They rarely touched in public, hands and fingers dancing around the other’s body as if pulled there magnetically, but almost never making contact. They shielded themselves with friends — in public they always moved in packs including at least one or two others, reserving their time alone for the privacy of Ji Seok’s apartment or studio. It wasn’t ideal, but it was what they could afford for the time being. 

Today, it had been particularly important that they remain vigilant as it was the end of promotions for the song and they would be spending so much time in close contact, exhausted from working almost nonstop for the last month. Being so aware of each other all day had increased the pull between them infinitely. The sexual tension had been palpable, and there hadn’t been even a moment where they could break away and be alone to kiss, or touch, or hold. 

The day hadn’t ended with the music show. They had been stuffed into formal wear, groomed and styled and moved to an awards ceremony. Kyung Soo’s movie had been released to great acclaim, and he had begged the pair to attend the event with him, in support of him. With as much as he had done for them during their entire relationship, they couldn’t refuse. They had watched Kyung Soo walk the red carpet with his co-star Yoo Yeon Seok at his side. They had taken their turn on the carpet, using the release of their song as an excuse for being together, for staying so close all evening.  

Now it was done, cameras no longer flashing, crowds dispersed, suits returned. Chanyeol had been given the next day off to recuperate from the month of promotions, and he had received permission to spend the night away from the dorm — the company not asking where he would be and him not telling, the uncomfortable arrangement holding for another month. 

Chanyeol entered the apartment first, stopping in the tiny entranceway to remove his shoes, dropping his bag and coat onto the floor. Ji Seok followed close behind. The invisible barrier between them lasted until Ji Seok kicked the door closed with his foot and the beep beep beep of the lock sounded, shutting out the world. Chanyeol stepped into the small apartment and turned to face his boyfriend. Ji Seok was there, closer to him than he had realised. “Holy shit. That was a day.” Chanyeol smiled broadly.

Ji Seok didn’t return the smile. He moved to Chanyeol swiftly and pushed him against the wall with his whole body, hands grabbing for Chanyeol’s face, lips searching out for Chanyeol’s mouth. They kissed roughly, urgently, teeth, tongues, lips smashing together in an attempt to make up for the hours they hadn’t been allowed to make contact. Chanyeol’s hands ripped at Ji Seok’s coat, yanking it down his shoulders until the other man pulled his hands away from Chanyeol so he could break free of the fabric. 

Ji Seok brought his hands up to Chanyeol’s hips, pulling his lower body away from the wall and against his own hips, pressing them together. He slid his hands up Chanyeol’s sides, sliding them under his shirt, touching his naked skin, pulling the shirt higher and higher until Chanyeol pulled away from the wall so Ji Seok could remove his shirt completely. Chanyeol fell back against the wall as Ji Seok kissed his mouth, jaw, and neck, running his tongue along his skin. He lifted his face to gaze at Chanyeol, “Fuck, you are so beautiful.” He ran his thumbs gently over Chanyeol’s eyes, closing them, smudging the eyeliner left over from the photoshoot. Ji Seok groaned at the sight of Chanyeol with ruined makeup and swollen lips.

Chanyeol opened his eyes, dark and hungry, hands tugging at Ji Seok’s shirt, pulling it up. “I’ve missed you all day.”

Ji Seok grabbed his wrists, pulling Chanyeol’s hands away from his clothes and pinning them above his head against the wall.

“Fuck, I know,” Ji Seok said. “I know, babe. We have all night.” He ran his hands down Chanyeol’s arms, along his sides, and around the waist of his jeans. He unbuttoned the pants while he trailed hot, breathy kisses down Chanyeol’s neck and across his collarbone. He nipped, licked and kissed his way down the other man’s chest, biting his nipple, trailing his tongue over the curve of his ribs.

Ji Seok sank to his knees, eyes level with Chanyeol’s abdomen. He tugged down the other man’s pants and boxers, fully exposing the tattoo across Chanyeol’s abdomen. The black ink made slashes, like claw marks, across his pale skin. Ji Seok ran his fingers along the marks, and Chanyeol moaned, head back against the wall, pants down around his ankles, cock hanging heavily against his thigh. He lowered his arms from their position above his head and ran his fingers through Ji Seok’s soft, black hair. Ji Seok ran his tongue over the inked skin and peppered it with kisses. Chanyeol shuddered, leaning heavily on on Ji Seok’s shoulders for a moment. Ji Seok breathed against Chanyeol’s skin, eyes open, taking in the visual of his artwork on his lover’s skin.

Ji Seok circled his fingers around the base of Chanyeol’s cock and wrapped his lips around the head, slowly swirling his tongue around and around the soft folds of skin. Chanyeol’s knees sagged again, and he braced himself against the wall, holding himself up. Ji Seok took more and more into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks, taking in as much of Chanyeol as he could. He worked his mouth and tongue rhythmically on Chanyeol’s dick with one hand holding the base to steady the heavy length while the other cupped and played with Chanyeol’s balls. 

“Oh fuck… fuck… fuck,” Chanyeol intoned like a mantra. “You are so fucking good.” He moved his head back and forth, like he couldn’t control his own body. His fingers were woven into Ji Seok’s hair, pulling and tugging with each up and down movement the other man’s mouth made on his cock. Chanyeol’s hips thrust as he got closer and closer to cumming. He fucked Ji Seok’s mouth. “I’m… Oh fuck… I’m gonna…”

Ji Seok swallowed as Chanyeol came, sucking down the last few drops before running his tongue around the head one last time. Chanyeol shuddered at the overstimulation, head rolling forward, eyes closed.

“Fuck, Ji Seok, we didn’t even make it past the front door.” Chanyeol smiled, opening his eyes.  “Let’s at least make it to the couch for round two. It’s your fucking turn.”

“Yeah,” Ji Seok said, throat thick and voice raw, “it’s my fucking turn.”


End file.
